You're Not My Real Dad!
by ZakuroU
Summary: When the Fuhrer is too busy for an important meeting in a foreign country, the duty slips down to one Roy Mustang. Reluctant to send one of his most talented dogs into dangerous land alone, Bradley decrees that he shall have a travelling partner; Edward Elric. Just when Roy thought the situation couldn't get worse, it was decided Edward would have to go in the guise of Roy's SON.
1. Of Missions and Mischief

**HEEHEEHEE. THIS IS MY NEW STORY. A guest reviewer by the name of FMAreader said I should write a story where Edward had to pretend he was Colonel Mustang's son on a mission. I know, it's sort of a cliche, but I COULDN'T RESIST! NYAHAHAHAA! In case you somehow hadn't already gathered, it's Parental!RoyEd (Seems like that's all I write...). As usual, you can pretend it is Yaoi, but that might be a little difficult because Roy talks about girls a lot later in this story. (I mean, he ****_is _****Roy...)**

**I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"So, _Colonel_, what's this all about then?"

Edward Elric scowled, crossing his legs and slapping his hands onto the arms of the chair bad-temperedly.

Roy sighed, which Edward should have seen as a bad omen in itself. He looked at the younger alchemist scathingly, his smirk absent from it's usual post.

Edward's eyebrows rose in mock surprise. "O-ho! The great Colonel is in a bad mood!"

"Don't be rude, brother," Alphonse chided gently, the glowing red spots of his eyes flicking from his brother to the black-haired man at the desk. "We heard you needed something from us?"

Roy stood up and wandered over to the window, pulling down his sleeve over his hand and wiping at a smudge on the glass.

It was a clear, somewhat sunny day, and would have been quite pleasant in Roy's books, had his situation not been quite so troublesome. This was not an assignment he'd ever wanted to receive, and the Fuhrer's last orders just made it even worse than Roy had ever imagined possible.

Riza Hawkeye stood a little off to the side of the room, like a watchful blonde statue.

"Have you ever heard of the country of Kambei?" he asked blandly, moving his hand to inspect the patch of glass.

"Nope," Edward deadpanned. "Never in my life."

"Um, yeah… I have," Alphonse said quietly. "It's a small country to the south-east of Amestris. We don't share a border though. It's south of Xing and the eastern desert area, and east of Aerugo. It's famous for it's nice climate, partial Xingese sense of culture and beautiful surrounds. They have a healthy trade with us and a small amount of soldiers that fought in Ishbal were Kambeian. That's about all I know."

"Good to see you know your geography, Alphonse," Roy commented. "Well, as you pointed out, they have a booming economy and trade with us regularly. Silk for cotton, honey for milk, mangoes for apples… That kinda thing. Anyways, we need to keep our alliance with them healthy, because of the strategical advantage the positioning holds. As in, if Aerugo should decide to play up with the border skirmishes again, Kambei can attack from their east and create a diversion, so on and so forth. As part of keeping this alliance good and happy, our countries hold a meeting with all our allies every two years."

"Can you cut to the chase, man?" Edward grumbled, shifting impatiently. "I've places to be and errands to run."

"Well, you might have to put those off for a while," Roy cut in icily. "Because I'll take as long as I need to explain, and then I'm going to waste some more of your time to tell you what the assignment is, and then you'll have to wait even _longer _as I'm sending you off on it."

Edward let out a horrendous groan, smacking his head into the coffee table and making the glasses sitting on it jump. "Are you serious?! I just got a lead that might actually be the real deal!"

"Please watch out for those glasses," Hawkeye put in, closing her eyes all-knowingly. "If they smash it'll be a hassle to clean up, and the shattered glass could present a safety hazard."

"I wouldn't put money on it, Fullmetal. You say that every single time I put you on a mission before you want to head off on your own."

"Yeah, but this one—"

"Is most likely nothing. Sorry to crush your hopes."

Edward stared death at his superior.

_"As I was saying,"_ Roy began again, this being more of an order than a statement. "This year, the meeting is being held in Kambei. Normally, the Fuhrer himself would be required to attend, but he's currently on an important - and apparently classified - excursion to a northern country and is unable to make it to Kambei. If this were any other day, one of the Generals would be asked to stand in, but all of them are _also_ preoccupied. For example, General Hakuro is going through family matters and major issues in his district, General Armstrong is busy with a serious border dispute at Fort Briggs, Brigadier General Gran is attending a meeting regarding a peace treaty with some country out east, etc, etc, bla, bla, bla." Roy flicked his wrist in a rotating motion, indicating how little he cared for the matter.

"Your point?" Edward drawled irritatedly, earning him a kick in the ankle from his brother.

"Somehow, as ridiculously improbable as it seems, the responsibility has slipped lower and lower down through the ranks as each General, Lieutenant General, Major General and Brigadier General has managed to scavenge up some excuse as to why they can't attend."

Roy turned back to the two brothers before him, his face shaded with a hundred tones of discontent. "I'm not sure how good your knowledge of military ranking is, you two, but I'm pretty sure you know which word is carved onto the next lowest rung of the ladder."

"Colonel," Edward stated dully. "It's Colonel, isn't it?"

Roy gave something that was probably considered a nod on some planet, and spat out a chewed-up remainder of some form of, "Yes."

"And you have to go."

"Unfortunately," growled Roy. "It would _appear_ that having a notorious _serial killer_ roaming the streets of your district isn't a good enough reason to remain in Amestris."

"Why don't you want to go?" Alphonse asked curiously. "Kambei is supposed to be one of the nicest places around."

"Yes, I know, and I wouldn't actually mind going there under any other circumstance. I've heard the women there are quite beautiful…" Roy trailed off, a flicker of excited desire flicking across his features.

Hawkeye's eyebrow snuck notably higher on her face and her hand moved slowly to the holster at her waist.

Then Roy pulled a face and said, "But being on business just sucks. I can't go anywhere on leisure and it means I won't be able to get back there for some time… And there's something else, too."

"Before you go on, what does _any_ of this have to do with me?" Edward broke in.

"I'm actually just getting to that," Roy said, sighing again. "The requirements are that only one representative is allowed to go, as a sign of trust. The Fuhrer, however, isn't comfortable with sending me up there alone, mainly because of the travelling through old Ishbal and because the Prince of Aerugo's going to be there… I think he knows I don't like him…" Roy frowned. "But anyways, he's asked that someone be sent there with me."

"So whoever goes with you needs to go undercover. Like…as an assistant or something?" Alphonse figured.

Roy nodded. "And it can't be Lieutenant Hawkeye. There's not a person out East that doesn't know about the Flame Alchemist and the blonde sniper woman he totes about."

The 'blonde sniper woman he totes about' comment earned Roy another death stare from the soldier herself.

"So, Fullmetal. You're pretty good at maths. Put two and two together."

Edward's eyes widened and his jaw literally fell open. "You mean…I gotta go with?!"

Roy ground his teeth and nodded, stalking over to his desk and sitting down. "Yup. And that's not the worst of it."

"What's worse than that?!" Edward exclaimed.

"You have to go…in the guise…" Roy, folded his arms on the desk and uncharacteristically settled his forehead between them so his next words came out muffled through his arms. "…of my son."

There was an audible _thun_k as Edward's jaw became closely acquainted with the floor and a _clack_ as Alphonse's hands fell to his sides.

And then there was dead, chilling silence in the room as Roy's words hung thick in the air. It lasted for ten seconds straight, and was probably the quietest that the office of Colonel Roy Mustang had ever been.

Ever.

This was up until the door to the main office burst open and in tumbled Lieutenants Hughes, Havoc and Breda, Warrant Officer Falman stepping in around the three sprawled on the floor and Sergeant Major Fuery standing timidly in the doorway.

"You missed a step, Roy!" Hughes hollered from his position sandwiched between Havoc and Breda. "You're supposed to get married before having kids!"

"It-it was their idea, sir!" Fuery squeaked. "I didn't want to eavesdrop, but they kept repeating everything you were saying!"

"Bwahaha!" guffawed Breda, rolling onto his back and crushing his two cohorts as he did so. "The Colonel… A father! That's hysterical!"

Havoc squirmed out from underneath the larger man, rubbing tears from his eyes. "The Fuhrer's done it this time…!" he wheezed. "That's plain frikkin' crazy! I reckon he's doing it just to annoy you!"

Hawkeye merely watched in disdain as the three men rolled about in feeble attempts to disentangle themselves from each other, somehow ending up with Hughes' foot stuck in Breda's mouth and Havoc's hand in a place that probably shouldn't be mentioned.

Eventually, the three managed to stumble to their feet, panting and grinning, and stare at their fuming commander.

"That was a good joke, sir," Havoc huffed, his stupid grin beaming away on full blast

"Yeah," Breda continued. "I didn't peg you for the jokester type."

Hughes nodded. "Didn't think you'd actually ever get off your butt and pull off a stunt like that."

Roy made a noise that sounded as if it was stuck halfway between a rabid dog growling and an old man's dying breath. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

The newcomers shared a mutual stare of disbelief before their jaws joined Edward's on the floor.

"But seriously, Roy," Hughes started again. "You've gotta be kidding! An order like that?!"

"Would I make a joke about this, Hughes?" Roy asked, his tone dangerously low. "You've known me for years; do you really think I'd pull something like this?"

The man seemed to turn this thought over in his head, his face taking on a puzzled, thoughtful expression. "On second thought…you're not. You're too lazy."

The realisation dawned on everyone in the room that Roy was not messing around, and that the Fuhrer was dead serious about this ludicrous order.

"With all due respect, sir," Falman began, his blank face looking the slightest bit surprised. "You'd have to be a complete fool to believe you two were a father and son. You look nothing alike."

"Apparently the Fuhrer thinks it'll slip by the other people at the meeting," Roy all but snarled, his white teeth flashing angrily.

Edward still sat in astonished silence, his jaw still giving the appearance of a stranded fish.

"I think you sent him into shock," Alphonse stated disbelievingly, giving his brother's shoulder a gentle nudge.

Havoc added, "You don't _act _alike either, though."

"I'm sure your own father acted in a very different manner from you, Lieutenant Havoc," Hawkeye said authoritatively. "He probably acted as if he had at least half a brain."

"Burn," hissed Breda.

"Gaaah," was Edward's response.

Alphonse poked him a few more times, but to no avail.

"And you're really, truly, honest to goodness, one hundred percent serious about this?!" Breda exclaimed.

"For the last time, yes!" Roy almost shouted, his annoyance peaking.

Hughes bounded forth into the room, grabbing his best friend's hand and shaking it enthusiastically. "Well then, congratulations, Roy, ol' buddy, ol' pal!" he called to basically the whole room. "You've done it a little backwards, but I'm sure it'll all be fine once you marry the good Lieutenant over here like we all know you've wanted to for years!"

Roy smashed his head into the desk, Hawkeye pulled a gun on Hughes, Havoc hit the floor again, Breda slapped a hand over his mouth, Fuery snorted, Falman actually _smirked_, Alphonse let out a squeak and Edward remained frozen in shock.

"HUGHES!" Roy roared, throwing his chair back and jumping to his feet as the man sprinted at almost inhuman speed from the room.

"Sorry, gotta go! I hear Grand Central calling me back!" came his voice through the door.

"I'm going to incinerate that man!" Roy fumed, dropping back into his beloved chair. "I'm going to burn him to ashes and watch him blow away on the wind!"

Hawkeye holstered her gun, her face expressionless. "Alright. You do that. Go and kill your best friend and one of your most reliable supporters."

"I don't care if he's my bloody _wife_, I'm going to kill him."

"On to the matter at hand," Riza said with a sigh. "You four. Out of here. Get back to your posts or receive the same treatment as has been threatened Lieutenant Hughes."

_Slam!_

They were gone.

"I REFUSE! NAH-UH! NO WAY! NOT IN A HUNDRED MILLION YEARS!"

Unfortunately for the remaining group, Edward seemed to have finally come to his senses. The blonde teenager was on his feet, his face an infuriated and alarming shade of bright red that gave him the appearance of a boiled lobster. An angry one. "Who says I'm gonna comply with this?!"

"Law," Roy muttered.

"TO HELL WITH THE LAW!" Edward screeched. "There is no way on this planet, Amestris, Kambei or flipping well _Xing_ that I am pretending to be _your_ son!"

"Hey, it's not like _I'm_ ecstatic about working with you either!"

Edward took a deep breath, burying his forehead in his palm. "Just… Just no. I can't do that. Can't."

Roy bared his teeth. "You, my friend, do not have a choice. I have a nice fancy bit of paper lying somewhere about this office with your name printed right on the bottom. And what that piece of paper says is that you have to do everything the Fuhrer orders."

He scowled. "And the _Fuhrer _has a nice fancy bit of paper with _my _name written on it that means _I _have to do whatever he wants me to. So there. Until such a day as _I _own all the military's fancy bits of paper, we all obey the Fuhrer King Bradley."

"Oh, no. No, no, no. No. Nah-uh. No way. Not a chance. Find someone else, because I'm totally out of here." Edward shook his head and grabbed Alphonse's wrist. "C'mon, Al. We're leaving."

"They've got a library in the city you're staying at that's full of alchemy books Amestris has never seen," Hawkeye stated, watching Edward screech to a halt. "I looked it up. There's even rumour of a record book written by a person who actually made a successful Philosopher's Stone."

Edward turned his head slowly to face the two soldiers. "So I can check it out if I go?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes. Only the Colonel is required to attend the military related meetings. Since you are posing as a civilian, you can do as you please," Hawkeye explained.

One could almost hear the cogs and gears whirring and clicking inside the boy's mind as he mulled this over.

Eventually…

"Okay. Fine. Whatever. I'll go, but it's only for the research purposes," he grumbled, dropping his brother's wrist.

"Brilliant," Roy sighed. "Just brilliant. Now, this is where we get technical. Fullmetal, it has to be you coming because you're the only other soldier who's young enough to pass for my…son. A wife won't do because we have so few female soldiers who're capable enough for this, save for the Lieutenant. But you already know why it can't be her. And, you don't wear a uniform - you never have - so you're not recognisable as a soldier. We might need to change your clothing anyway, though; I hear the red cloak's getting quite the reputation." Roy frowned. "Actually, where even is your uniform?"

"Don't have one."

"Why not?"

"Didn't want one."

"And they didn't have any in his size anyway," Alphonse added quickly.

Roy's smirk dashed lightly across his face once more, his eyes alight with glee. "All too big for you…?"

"SHADDAP!" Edward sat back down, his expression thunderous.

"There's one more thing, too," Roy said, as if he'd just remembered. Which, quite frankly, he had.

"Oh?" Edward spat. "And what would that be?"

"Alphonse has to stay behind."

Edward's eyes stretched wide with dismay. "What? Really?!"

Roy nodded. "No exceptions. _You_ I can pull off. Alphonse is too big, and his body'll be a hassle to explain if there are inspections."

"B-but where'll he stay…?" Edward asked helplessly.

"Here. Don't worry, I'm sure Lieutenant Hawkeye will take good care of him," Roy assured the fretting boy before him. He flicked his head to the left. "Right, Hawkeye?"

"Yes, sir," she responded. Turning to Edward, she added, "Leave it to me. I'll see to it that no harm will befall your brother."

Edward refused to be satisfied. "Yeah, but what if Sca—"

"Brother," Alphonse broke in. "I'll be fine. You just get on with your assignment."

Edward shifted uncomfortably, letting his brother put his thick hand on his shoulder. "…Okay. Just be really, really careful, alright?"

"I will," Alphonse said with a firm nod. "Now, is there anything else we need to know?"

"We should be gone for two weeks, at most," Roy began again. "You shouldn't need to bring much, just the usual travel gear. Ever dyed your hair black before, Fullmetal?"

"No, but I know how. Alchemy-style."

"Good. Do that. It'll make the whole thing more plausible," Roy ordered with a nod. "Be ready to head off. Meet me outside Eastern Command tomorrow at nine hundred hours, and book Alphonse a room in the dorms. Not in that order."

"Yes, sir, Colonel Bastard, sir," Edward responded, flicking his wrist in a half-salute. "I'll be here."

"That's _dad_," Roy corrected, his smirk reappearing.

"No thanks," Edward snapped.

He and Alphonse made their way to the door and left, leaving Roy and Hawkeye behind in the room.

"This mission," Roy said softly, catching his Lieutenant's attention. "I don't think it's going to go well."

* * *

**Did you like it? I liked writing it, and my sister loves it. More will come soon.**

**BY THE WAY, HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, EVERYONE! LET'S DEDICATE IT TO HUGHES!**

**(And to anyone who reads my other fic, 'All is One', NEVER FEAR! I just have to finish the last little bit of the next chapter and then I'll update... Until then, ADIOS!**

**(P. S., Does anyone even know what language 'adios' is? I don't. I'm just stupid, I think...)**

**:D REVIEW! *flies away on rainbow***


	2. Of Steam trains and Sleeping Weird

**Two of my stories updated in the same week? WHAT IS THIS MADNESS?!**

**Madness? No. This! Is! FANFICTION!**

**Eheheh. Enjoy.**

* * *

Roy barely recognised the boy that stood before him on the steps of East Command the next day, and he might not have even figured out it was Edward if not for the huge suit of armour and the suitcase at his side, the short stature and the recognisable golden-amber eyes and braid.

His hair had been dyed black now, but the iconic braid-bangs-spike combo remained solid. The boy had even managed to do away with his usual ludicrous get-up, switching his red cloak, black jacket and pants for a set of sensible black trousers and a short-sleeved white shirt and suspenders, but leaving the gloves. The boots with the massive soles refused to budge from his feet, however.

He opened his mouth to complain. "Damn, I look—"

"Normal?"

"I was gonna say boring," Edward grumbled, pulling a loose black coat over his unusual (for his sense of style anyway) attire and the silver auto-mail arm Winry prided herself on keeping so impeccable and _functioning._

Roy himself was dressed in his usual travelling gear, as his uniform wasn't required until the important (and boring) events and discussions. He wore his favourite shirt, a simple white one with a blue-trim, and navy-black trousers, underneath a lengthy black coat and matching fedora.

The Colonel smirked, making his way down the steps to the waiting car. "Say bye to your brother then come along. We're leaving now."

"Already?" Edward said, surprised. "You guys sure don't waste any time."

Hawkeye followed Roy down the stairs to the bottom, stopping him just before he reached the car.

"Here." She handed him a tightly bound paper package, looking him solidly in the eye. "Make sure you keep this with you. In your room, suitcase, under your pillow, whatever. Just keep it handy."

It felt suspiciously like a gun. Roy raised an eyebrow. "Lieutenant, weapons aren't allowed. You know that."

"You have already packed at least three pairs of ignition gloves," she said pointedly. "The gun's not loaded. But anyone who threatens you won't know that. Some of the people attending this meeting aren't particularly friendly with Amestrians."

Roy smiled a little. "Okay, then. I'll keep it on me as best I can."

Hawkeye leaned forward as if she were to look into the car behind Roy at the driver and whispered, "The ammo's in your suitcase."

Roy smirked, giving a lone nod. "Your efficiency never ceases to impress."

Hawkeye stepped back and returned the nod, then moved up the to the building. She met Edward halfway up, and said quietly as she passed, "Take care of him."

Edward met her gaze. "Only if you'll do the same."

Hawkeye's eyes flicked up to the waving Alphonse at the top of the steps and she replied with, "Of course. Leave him in my care; nothing will happen to him. I promise."

"Then I'll watch him," Edward twitched his head in the direction of the car and suddenly his serious face broke into a grin. "Thanks."

Hawkeye nodded and went to stand up with Alphonse.

Edward tossed his case into the boot and hopped into the back seat of the car, next to Roy, and settled down.

As driver started to pull away, Edward hung his top half out the window and shouted back, "I'LL SEE YOU SOON, AL! KEEP RESEARCHING; I EXPECT AT LEAST ONE MORE LEAD BY THE TIME I'M BACK!"

"STAY SAFE, BIG BROTHER!" Alphonse called back, raising his hands to his would-be face.

"I WILL! YOU TOO! POLISH YOUR ARMOUR, AND DON'T PICK UP ANY CATS!"

"DRINK YOUR MILK!"

"NEVER! YOU JUST—JUST STAY SAFE!"

Edward was jerked back into the car suddenly as Roy grabbed his collar and pulled him down.

"Hey!" the boy protested. "What gives?"

"If you're to be posing as my son, you've got to show at least _some_ level of maturity," the Colonel stated. "In fact, speaking of this; that braid really needs to go. It's childish, not to mention recognisable. Plus, it's not really the style you'd expect from the son of a high-ranking officer, let alone one with a reputation like mine…"

"A reputation as a lazy, womanising, flame-slinging bastard?"

Roy merely rolled his eyes, reaching over and tugging loose the tie that bound Edward's braid.

"Hey! What do you think you're—"

"Just shut up for a sec and let me do this," Roy ordered, shifting in his seat to get better access to the boy's hair.

"Will you cut that out?!" Edward protested, twisting around and flailing his arms.

Roy cuffed him over the head. "Sit still!"

Edward obeyed begrudgingly, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes and scowling. "Just don't do anything terrible."

"Do I look like I'm capable of doing any harm to a person's visual harmony?"

"You're such a girl."

Roy tutted, reaching over Edward's head to tussle the bangs hanging limp at the sides of his face and flattening the spike in his forehead a little to the left.

"What on earth are you doing?"

"Making this whole father-son thing more plausible," Roy responded, gathering up Edward's lengthy black hair and holding it off to the side. "Turn here."

Edward twisted his head around and Roy gave a satisfied nod, admiring his work. "Yes. That'll do nicely."

He wrapped the tie around Edward's hair and pulled it into a smooth, dark ponytail, liking how this was turning out. "Very nicely indeed…"

He let go and sat back, touching a hand to his chin and nodding. "There we go."

Edward's bangs had now been messed up and made less prominent, Roy having added the longer parts to his ponytail and the shorter parts in to make a fringe that somewhat resembled his own. He'd pressed the 'antenna' down on the side, much like the clump of hair that refused to be flattened on his own head and then pulled the whole thing back into a nice, sophisticated ponytail.

The bangs still showed slightly, but Edward looked a lot more like his 'father' than he had beforehand.

"What," Edward began lowly, shooting Roy a glare. "Did you do?"

"Look in the mirror," Roy said, straightening out his own hair as he did so.

Edward stretched in his seat to see into the rear-view mirror, frowning. There was a quiet 'oh', and he sat back down again.

"I look like you," the boy stated slowly, looking incredulously at his superior. "_I_ look like _you._ How the _hell_ d'you do that?!"

"When you've spent long enough trying to make someone as hopeless as Jean Havoc look good, you pick up on stuff," Roy explained. "And I grew up around a lot of girls, so I'm used to having my hair played with… Hair as workable as yours is a cinch to disguise."

Edward flicked his head. "Fair 'nough. Anything else you wanted to change?"

"Try and tone down the crazy grins while we're there. Keep it more at smirk level. That's bound to have some sort of effect," Roy advised. "And try to…_act_ a little more like I would have if I were your age. That's about it."

"Alright. So you want me to go around the place and woo every girl I find before breaking their hearts and blowing everything up?"

"I was not like that," Roy deadpanned. "I was actually quite serious as a teenager. And I didn't know any flame alchemy back then either. So try to be quiet, if that's possible for someone as loud and obnoxious as yourself."

"Why, _hello_ there gorgeous! Now, you're pretty hot, but I guarantee I can make you hotter," Edward drawled, batting his meager eyelashes and giving his hair a toss, totally ignoring everything Roy had just said. "Hey there, babe! What's your sign? Oh, really? Well, I'm sure we'll get along no matter what the stars say! They won't come between what we've got going on!"

"Ed, that's terrible. Just _terrible_. Shut up."

"Oh. We're on a first name basis now, aren't we?" Edward realised, dropping the act almost immediately.

"I am with you, Edward _Mustang,_" Roy emphasized. "Try to refer to me by 'dad' as much as possible. Your own name will be easier to remember, but I'll try to keep calling you Ed. Sound good?"

"Sounds awesome. All apart from the 'dad' bit. What's my mom's name?"

"Uhh... Elizabeth Mustang. Use that. Say you're my sister's kid but I adopted you, maybe?" Roy pondered this. "Nah, just stick with your mother being my wife. Say she died from some sickness when you were really small. But try not to bring her up much, in case someone decides to look into it. I mean, there shouldn't really be anyone here who'll recognise us or be interested in us, so it's unlikely that anyone'll think anything's up."

"And I have auto-mail because...?"

"Stick with the 'Eastern Rebellion' excuse. They'll probably take that as an answer without digging in any deeper."

Edward nodded. "So, I'm Edward Mustang, fifteen years old. My father is Roy Mustang, my mother is Elizabeth Mustang, who passed away due to illness when I was young." He hesitated a little. "I lost two limbs in the Eastern Rebellion, I have no siblings, and I study alchemy. That be alright?"

"Should work." Roy gave a pleased smile. "This is coming together well. I think we might just be able to pull this off, if we cooperate."

"Yeah, whatever," Edward said with a nod, placing his chin on his palm and looking out the window. "Just so long as I don't have to keep this act up for long."

Five minutes passed.

"Although, if there are any pretty girls there, you're welcome to come with me and help me pick one up. You could be my wingman. I've never tried the 'single-father-whose-wife-died-and-left-his-son-to -him' trick before, but I _think_ I just _might_ be able to make it work. In fact, if it does work, would you mind coming out with me more often? Frankly, you'd make a lot better chick-magnet than Havoc."

"Stop talking. Right. Now."

"I know you're underage, but I think I could sneak you into bars. I mean, you don't get many people who'll argue with a State Alchemist, let alone two. And, if you _do_ prove to be useful in getting me women, I might consider teaching you my tricks."

"Shut your face. Make the words stop coming out into the air."

"And, all going well, you might even manage to hook up with that mechanic I know you've got a thing for."

"Coming from the guy whose first thought for a made-up wife's name is the codename he uses for the woman he's known for years and probably wants to marry but hasn't ever asked out!"

Roy shut up, going red with embarrassment, anger and indignation.

* * *

They spent the rest of the trip to the station in silence, each casting annoyed glances at each other the whole time.

Every time Roy turned his head, Edward grabbed any random spot on his face and pulled, narrowing his sharp golden eyes and sticking out his tongue.

At one point, Roy reached right across to the other side of the car and slapped Edward upside the head out of sheer irritation. How he planned to survive the next two weeks or so remained a mystery to the self-proclaimed master of disguise, since he was already halfway up his figurative 'wall'.

After what seemed to the two state alchemists like several hours (twenty-two minutes), they were finally able to escape from the car and out into another cramped transportation service; a train.

Edward threw his travelling case over his shoulder and followed after Roy's back. He pointed at the overhead clock and said, "What time's the train meant to be here for?"

Roy looked up. "About…five minutes from now."

They wandered over to the third line only to see the back of their train begin to pull away from the station. Roy looked at Edward and Edward looked at Roy.

"Up for a race, Fullmetal?"

"Anytime! How 'bout you, old man?"

"I'm only twenty-nine, Ed," Roy said with a smirk. "So be careful what you say. I'm not as physically incompetent as you seem to think I am."

"That a challenge?"

"You're on."

They stood still as the train sped up a little, then simultaneously took off at high speed, sprinting after it.

Edward gave a sly grin. "Ready?"

Roy raised an eyebrow, puzzled. "Huh?"

"Hyup!" Edward threw his suitcase vertically onto the ground before himself and took a flying leap at it, landing on his knees atop it and allowing his momentum to carry him forward on the wheels.

Roy's eyes widened, then his face became a mask of determination. "Two can play at that game, Fullmetal."

He hauled his case up higher on his back and quickened his pace, sprinting for the gap in the platform. _Go!_

He didn't miss a beat as he thumped down onto the tracks and bolted after the train at top speed. "Let's see you catch it from up there! You're running out of platform, Fullmetal!"

"Tch!" Edward kicked out with his leg and sped up a little before clapping his hands and tapping the ground whizzing past. He grabbed a spear out of the concrete and an abandoned cloak from the floor, quickly transmuting it into a rope. Then he drew back and threw it as hard as he could at the back of the train as it began to pick up speed.

He grabbed his case in one hand and slapped the platform again with the other, and suddenly a great rocky spring platform slung him forward. He sailed overhead as the transmutation sank back into the floor, shooting Roy a grin.

This time it was the Colonel's turn to growl. He wasn't far behind the train now - he could probably make it if he jumped for it.

But why waste the effort if someone was there to make it for you?

Roy kept his eye on Edward's path and waited for the exact moment when the boy's rope was directly overhead before springing up to grab it.

He hauled himself up with one arm and swung over the railing just as Edward reached it, thumping down with a loud _clunk!_ Both alchemists landed on the back of the train at the same time, panting and regarding each other with looks of offence.

"You cheated!" stated Edward accusingly, thrusting a finger at Roy. "Grabbing onto _my_ rope's a bit of a dirty trick, man!"

"What, and employing alchemy in a running race is perfectly fair?" Roy retorted. "And besides, I see nothing wrong with saving myself some effort by doing a little coattail hanging. Why should I do something again if someone's already done it for me?"

"You're so lazy!"

"I call it 'recycling effective ideas'."

"It's laziness! Slacking off! Procrastinating!"

"Who are you, my mother?" Roy sent Edward a scathing glare as he pushed open the door and stepped inside the carriage.

"I'm Lieutenant Hawkeye!"

"Oh, ha ha. Very funny, straight from the mouth of the boy whose little brother is more like his big brother."

"Yeah, well, y'know what?" Edward began as they made their way up to the ticket warden. "There isn't a soldier in all of East City who doesn't say 'It's almost like Hawkeye's the Colonel's babysitter! As soon as she leaves, he's on the phone to a girl!' Not a single soldier! Right, A—" Edward cut himself off as he remembered his little brother wasn't there to give him that meager support he'd often supplied him with.

"Alphonse isn't here to back you up this time, Fullmetal." Roy rolled his eyes. "There's also not a single soldier who doesn't call you 'shortie' behind your back."

"I'm not short! It's just those damned soldiers who feel the need to be superior to everyone else!" Edward fished around in his back pocket and whipped out his ticket with a furious light sparking in his eyes. "As soon as this mission's over, I'm gonna find every guy who said that and beat the snot out of 'em!"

"And then I'll court-martial you and you'll be out of my hair forever. Good riddance," Roy said as he handed his ticket to the baffled looking man before him.

As the two finally allowed for their bickering to die down, they turned around and realised that just about every other passenger on the train was staring at them.

They exchanged a somewhat embarrassed glance and waited for someone to cover their mistake, having forgotten that their normal 'smooth-things-over-ers' were absent from both their sides.

Roy cleared his throat and spoke up. "Ah, sorry about that…" He trailed off. _What is it that Hawkeye always does when I fluff up?_

"We were just…" Edward scratched at his head awkwardly. "…y'know…" _What's that thing Alphonse normally says?_

"Sorry about his behavior. It was out of line. Please don't mind us," the two said in unison, both nodding and wandering off to their seats.

Roy rubbed his forehead and Edward's eyes flicked over the gradually relaxing passengers of the train as they sat down, both of them letting out a sigh.

They occupied two double leather seats with a small wooden table between them, both secretly enjoying the slightly red tone to the other's cheeks.

"That," Edward mumbled. "Was really freaky."

"I guess neither of us have really had to clean up our own messes before now," admitted Roy. "Odd, but now that I think about it, both of us are…"

"Away from our partners?" Edward suggested softly. "That's what I thought too."

They contemplated on this in solemn silence, each just now realising how heavily they relied on their Lieutenant/Brother/Babysitter/Assistant/Partner-in -crime/Companion?/Caretaker/Person-who-is-just-abo ut-always-with-them.

"Odd," Roy echoed, looking out the window at the slowly receding tumble of grey that was East City. "By the way, Fullmetal, that was a nice little stunt back here; you know, pulling that spear from the platform whilst you were still moving. Good job, not just any alchemist could do that."

"Yeah, I'm not just any alchemist. And you were pretty good too…" Edward caught himself complementing the man who was possibly the most annoying guy on earth. "I mean, for a lazy, pretty-boy demolitions expert who only uses alchemy to blow stuff up."

Roy rolled his eyes again. "Well, you're an incompetent pipsqueak who doesn't even have the decency to form a proper complement."

"I'M NO PIPSQUEAK!"

About half an hour later, Edward had fallen into a heavy sleep on the tabletop, his arms folded and his head nestled comfortably in the crook of his elbows.

_That cannot be good for his back_, Roy thought disdainfully, shaking his head.

Edward snuffled in his sleep and muttered, "It was Al's fault, mom… He used dad's…Bunsen burner…and that's how it…went on fire…"

Roy smirked. _Dreaming, huh? It's a wonder a boy like him still has the ability to sleep peacefully._

He cast his gaze back to the shifting land outside the window. "Lucky."

"Ngh."

Roy's eyebrows heightened a notch as he caught Edward grunt uncomfortably. _Perhaps I spoke too soon._

Seconds later, Edward was silent again, save for his loud breathing. Roy frowned in disapproval as a dribble of spit found it's way out of Edward's mouth and onto the table and he began to poke the boy in the shoulder.

It took him a couple of goes to register the fact that he was trying to poke auto-mail.

He switched shoulders.

Edward seemed to either not notice Roy's attempt to awaken him or simply not care, dozing on peacefully.

"Fullmetal. Fullmetal. Ed. Edward. Ed. Wake up. You're drooling on the table."

Roy eventually gave up, sitting back. He tried looking out the window again, but his eyes somehow drifted back to Edward every time. He knew from experience that Edward's back would be giving him a lot of grief when he woke up if he continued to sleep in such a posture. That would then morph into a headache, which would lead to crankiness, which would lead to complaining, and Roy didn't want to deal with a grumpy, whiny Ed.

Cursing softly, he stood up and went around to Edward's side of the table and hoisted him up by the shoulders, throwing his own travelling cloak between the boy's head and the window like a cushion.

"There," Roy said, satisfied he wouldn't have to deal with an annoying teen. "Better."

He went back around to his own seat, reassuring himself that he didn't do it for the boy's comfort, but so that he himself could have a little more peace later on.

That was all.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! And reviewing! And for everyone who told me what language 'adios' is, you're awesome too! Please don't forget to review. If I need to respond but can't review something back for you, I'll do this:**

**BulletWitch1985 - Yes, it is that guy. Glad someone recognised. I don't know much about him, but I thought I should shove him in somewhere. :D**

**HUGHES IS AWESOME! *rainbow riding powers - ACTIVATE!***


	3. Of Winding Paths and Wind Spirits

**IS IT…?! COULD IT BE…?! VIC MIGNOGNA?! Nope, it's an update. Heh. Heheh. Heheheh. Vic Mignogna. Travis Willingham. Heh. Voice actors are so cool.**

_**Of Winding Paths and Wind Spirits**_

* * *

"So, we gotta get through the eastern desert towards the south sea, down the Aerugo border to get there, and then we actually have to _find_ the place we're staying at. I have no idea where it is," Roy said as they got out of the car at the closest town possible to Amestris' south-east border, Edward removing his cloak and throwing it over his shoulder. "Geez, it's hot out here!"

They had been travelling for several hours now, car to train station, station to station, station to station…several more stations and then back to car.

"You might wanna keep an eye on that arm, Fullmetal," Roy advised, retrieving their bags from the boot of the car. "It'll get hot in the sun."

"No s***," came Edward's sarcastic response.

"No, really," Roy insisted. "It'll actually burn you if you're not careful. And don't get heatstroke. I can hardly handle your stupidity when you're in a normal condition, so I hate to picture what you'd be like all disorientated and out of it. There should be a cart for us about here somewhere…"

Edward waited until Roy's back was turned to put a finger in each side of his mouth and stretch his face, poking out his tongue and going cross-eyed.

The two set off through the small town, looking about for the coach set to pick them up. After not finding it on any of the streets, Roy asked about in the old, rickety hotel, leaving Edward out on the porch.

The boy laid down on his stomach and blew around the sand on the old wooden planks, watching how it skittered about and fell between the cracks. An idea struck him in his state of boredom.

"I am the wind spirit," he proclaimed solemnly, twirling his finger in a small pile of sand he'd gathered and sending it all across the wood.

"All you small creatures shall obey my commands," he declared, blowing at the grains of sand and blasting them away. "Your god commands you to dance."

He spent several minutes forcing the sand to 'dance' in his honour, occasionally indulging in a small display of alchemy to make the sand come back to him after he'd blown it all away.

"The wind spirit grows tired of your repetitive patterns," Edward mumbled monotonously, letting out a huffing breath and placing his chin on the floor. "Do something else… Yes, run in circles."

He clapped behind his back and flopped his arms down onto the planks, making them tilt about and roll the sand in a circular motion. "This pleases the wind spirit."

"Alright, Mr Wind spirit," Roy broke into the boy's play. "Turns out the person who ordered us the coach asked for it a day late, so it doesn't get in 'til tomorrow. I had to book a room here for tonight."

"This _dis_-pleases the wind spirit," Edward growled, rolling onto his back and fixing Roy with an irritated glare. "What do you want me to do for a whole day in this backwater dustbowl?"

Roy smirked down at his subordinate. "Play 'wind spirit'?"

"That was so funny I forgot to laugh," Edward responded, rising to his feet and dusting himself off. "Seriously though. For all our military advances, they can't schedule a freaking _coach_ on time?"

"Trains either," Roy added, rubbing his forehead with his sleeve. "I suppose we could try to stock up on supplies for cutting through the Eastern Desert area. If we gather up a lot of water, we can even use some to pour on your arm if it overheats."

"Meh," Edward replied, stretching his arms. "'Kay."

"Why so subdued, Ed?" Roy asked curiously, starting off down the steps onto the road.

"The heat's tiring," Edward responded blandly, tying his coat around his waist and setting off after him. "Makes me feel sluggish. Always has."

"Huh," Roy said with a shrug. "Interesting. I feel the same way about those stuffy, muggy days. You know when it's not really hot or cold but the air's so heavy and stifling? Full of moisture. Days like that, I'd rather just stay in bed. I have terrible luck in humid weather. Nothing ever seems to go right."

Edward gave a nod. "'Kay."

They travelled the rest of the way to the town's sole general store in silence, save for the crunch of sand beneath their feet.

"Ah, 'bout four jugs'll do it," Roy said with a shrug, addressing the young man behind the counter.

"Headed for Kambei?" he responded, turning and fetching the required material from the shelf behind him.

"How'd you guess?" Roy said as Edward busied himself with looking about at the various products the shop supplied.

"Well, that's the only reason and military folk ever come out to a place so far south as this. Too important up in _Grand_ ol' Central."

Roy frowned and cocked his head. "But how—"

"Your whole face has that certain look about it. Too clipped and official. In fact, the entire aura I get off you just screams out 'I am a soldier!' It's pretty obvious to us country folk."

"I see," Roy murmured. "That's interesting."

The man behind the counter pointed at Edward with his thumb. The boy was poking at a stack of beans, putting his face right up close as if to read the contents sticker. He gave one hard tap and the whole stack fell down on his head. "He's a little harder to place, though. Not sure what to make of him. It's sorta like he's half soldier, half teenage boy." To the young alchemist himself, the shopkeeper added, "Now pick those up, boy!"

Roy shrugged. "He's like that. Oh, and we'll need about half a roll of those…"

After Roy was satisfied that they'd gathered all they needed from the general store, the two made their way back to the hotel. It was just beginning to darken now, and they lugged the stuff upstairs to find their travelling cases had already been moved up to the room.

One detail of the their accommodation caught both their eyes.

Roy slowly set the shopping down and Edward copied, both sharing a glance at each other. They looked from each other's eyes around the room once again, muscles tense, and then back to the point.

There was only one bed.

There was complete and utter silence for another three seconds where they looked at each other a while longer, bodies awaiting the impending race and hearts thumping.

There were two yells, a smack, a shove, a snatch, a thump and a thud.

Edward and Roy had both let out simultaneous battle cries before Edward had smacked a hand into Roy's shoulder and made a dash for it.

Roy had fought back by shoving the boy in the chest and heading for the bed himself. But Edward had the head start and reached it first. Alas, his speed was his downfall.

The momentum he'd created sent him straight over the top of the bed, leaving him to snatch at the blankets and haul them down onto the floor with him.

Roy followed, thumping down onto the bed with a smirk and claiming it as his territory.

"Mine," he said decisively, placing his chin on the edge and looking down at the boy sprawled on the floor before him.

Edward stuck out his tongue and curled protectively around the quilts, boldly stating, "Mine."

And so neither of them enjoyed that night, Roy somewhat comfortable but freezing up on the bed and Edward warm but uncomfortable on the hard floor.

* * *

The coach was indeed there for them the next day, ready to cart them off through the remaining desert country - Old Ishbal.

Neither of them had been looking forward to this leg of the trip; the prospect of travelling through a boiling hot desert to get to a country he didn't want to be in the first place did not appeal to Edward one bit, and Roy was slightly unnerved about returning to the former land of the people he'd played such a major part in slaughtering.

"Ngyaaa…" Edward was sprawled on the floor on the floor of the cart, his auto-mail almost steaming. "It's too hot… Auto…mail…burning… Wind Spirit…dying…"

Roy rolled his eyes, sighing. "Quit complaining, 'Wind Spirit'."

"But it's _so-o-o hot_…"

The only other passenger in the coach was a young man, almost the same age in looks as Edward, wearing a thick, beige, hooded travelling cloak over a singlet and shorts. He didn't look like he had much money, with a ruffled appearance and slightly dirtied skin. His eyes were on Edward's gleaming metal arm.

Roy poured a small amount of water over Edward's shoulder and the boy give a small sigh of relief and closed his eyes as the metal arm began to steam literally. "Are we _there_ yet?"

"That," Roy said bluntly. "Was the most childish thing you could have said. Ever."

Edward stuck out his tongue again and growled, wiping his forehead on his flesh shoulder. "I don't care. Are we?"

Roy brushed a stray hair off his face and leant towards the curtain. "We've gotta be close now…"

He pushed aside the curtain a little and poked his head out, taking a look around.

Roy let out a soft, "Oh."

"Ouch." He drew the curtain again, sitting back in his seat and rubbing his chest to try and ease the sudden pain and tightness he felt there. "Not doing that again."

Edward opened one eye, puzzled, and tugged on Roy's trouser leg. "What? Are we here?"

"If memory serves," Roy said with a slight gulp, his throat suddenly abnormally dry. "We're abou-ut halfway."

"Did your voice just crack?" Edward asked curiously, snapping into a sitting position.

"Did it?" Roy flinched at another spasm of pain aching in his chest. He felt dizzy now and took a drink of water, hoping he wasn't dehydrated.

His gaze shifted to the flapping curtain as Edward pulled it open. "How could you tell where we were? There's nothin' out there but rubble and…" He trailed off, looking back at Roy, who let out a noise of uncomfortable discontent. "…burnt buildings…"

Edward's confused gaze flicked from Roy to the desert and back again. "Are you okay…?"

Roy took a deep breath and rubbed his chest again, his gaze fixed on a particular charred building in the distance. "Please, close that over."

"But don't—"

"Close it, Ed! Close it right now!" Roy snapped, his eyes flashing with a new light.

Terror.

"Mustang? What's wrong with you? You're looking pretty red. I mean, seriously. Your cheeks are like, bright red," the boy stated, dropping the curtain and sitting on his own seat.

Roy's gaze bored through the meager protection the curtain offered from the scene outside. He could find his way around this place with his eyes closed. It's aura pressed around him, crushing him, suffocating and pulling at him. It was all around him; the place where he'd almost burned to death with the Ishbalans he'd been responsible for the massacre of.

Roy went completely numb, save for a tingling sensation in his hands and feet.

This was the place where his own flames had turned on him.

He felt sick and dizzy.

This was the place where heat had licked hungrily at his heels like a beast lusting for meat.

His heart gave one single, loud, thump and kicked into overdrive.

This was the place where a single pair of defiant red eyes had stared him to his wits end before they burned with the rest.

His body started to tremble.

This was the place where guns blazed like the fire itself, stealing life like earth's own Grim Reaper.

Roy started breathing faster and faster, feeling like he was being smothered by the same smoke that had choked him almost to death so many years ago now.

That place was all around him, there was no escape, he was trapped, trapped in the flames and the smoke and the fire and the death and the guns and the war.

The war, the war, _always the damn war!_

"Mustang! Mustang!" Edward waved a hand in his commanding officer's face, but he didn't even seem to notice.

It was as if he wasn't even in there anymore.

Edward didn't know much about medicine. He didn't know much about psychology, or anatomy or anything like that, but he'd read about it. Years and years ago, at Winry's house, and in his father's old study.

He put his hand to lips and as he often did in this kind of situation and closed his eyes. _Think. What is this? He rubbed his chest, he's shaking, he's breathing all wrong… What is this? I know I've read it before somewhere…but where?_

Edward's eyes flew open. _There!_

_Young Edward flicked to the next page of the book, muttering, "All Winry's books are dumb… They're all about doctor stuff…"_

_He glanced through it._

Panic Attack

Symptoms:

-Palpitations, and/or accelerated heart rate

-Dry heaving, and/or gagging

-Sweating

-Trembling or shaking

-Sensations of shortness of breath or being smothered, hyperventilation

-Feeling of choking

-Chest pain or discomfort

-Nausea or abdominal distress

-Feeling dizzy, unsteady, lightheaded, or faint

-De-realization or depersonalization

-Fear of losing control or going insane

-Sense of impending death

-Paresthesias

-Chills or hot flashes.

A person who is suffering from a panic attack may not be limited to these symptoms. Some may experience hysteria, tunneling vision, loss of control over themselves, neck soreness or a headache. A person is likely to only ever experience one panic attack in their lifetime, but repeated cases are often diagnosed as 'panic disorder'.

Treatment:

…

_Edward slammed the book closed with a huff. "Boring!"_

Roy's glazed eyes widened and his shallow breathing sped up to a scarily high rate. "Help…someone…anyone… I'm gonna die…"

He curled his shivering hands close into his chest protectively, weakly shaking his head and mumbling, "I don't want…to die… Not here…"

Edward's brow furrowed. _But he doesn't have a history of panic disorder or anything…at least, not one that_ I'm _aware of…_

"Dammit!" Edward slammed his fist into the side of the coach. "What am I s'posed to do?! Bastard goes and frikkin' flips out in the middle of no-where for no damn reason!"

"He's having a panic attack," the other passenger murmured quietly, his soft voice carrying an odd foreign accent. "It's from some sort of past traumatic event."

Edward whirled around and blinked, taken aback by the stranger's sudden input. He'd totally fogotten he was even there.

"How'd you get that?!" was Edward's immediate response. "You don't even know they guy! How could you possibly—"

"I am a shaman - a witch doctor," the stranger replied. "I can read people."

Edward stared blankly. "That's nice."

"It is."

A few seconds ticked by.

"Any idea what exactly I have to _do?!_"

The 'shaman' took his hood down to reveal startlingly white, straggling hair and lightly tanned skin. His eyes were a strange shade of violet. "You just need to keep with him. You're his son, aren't you?"

Edward blinked as the stranger shot him a glance that somewhat gave off the impression of a snarky comment.

"Look, buddy, if you're trying to make a joke out of this—"

The 'shaman' raised a hand for silence and moved forward to kneel on the ground in front of Roy. He reached out with his hands and rested them gently on Roy's knees.

The man moaned, shaking his head from side to side slightly. "What's going on…?!" he gasped, his words ragged. "I can't breathe… I'm suffocating…"

"Shh," the stranger hushed. "Now, I need you to tell me what it is that's bothering you. Look here. Look at me. Look at my eyes."

Roy's dark gaze locked with the purple of the other boy's, and he stopped struggling. "What are you thinking of? What is it that is scaring you here? What's doing this to you?"

Roy's eyes softened as the stranger's gaze drilled into him. It made him feel odd, like he was suddenly floating somewhere, somewhere there was only nothingness and no-one, and he had to exactly whatever the boy told him.

"Talk to me."

"It's this place…" Roy mumbled, his eyes wide. "I was here a long time ago… I almost died here…"

His whole body shook with a sharp, unstoppable tremor as he tried to stop himself from talking.

"Keep going."

"My own fire almost killed me…" Roy's quick, panting breaths made it hard for him to speak. "I was aiming for an Ishbalan man…but it was a trap. I almost died…"

"I see," the white-haired boy said with a nod. "What do you feel?"

"I'm scared," whispered Roy, his mouth moving on it's own accord. "I'm trapped here. I'm stuck in this place. I…" He clenched his jaw shut, trying not to any more pathetic words escape him. _No! I don't want to say that!_

"It's okay," the boy murmured softly. "We're only trying to help you. What is wrong with your body?"

Edward took a seat, mesmerised by what he was seeing. This white-haired kid - this _shaman_ or whatever - was _hypnotising_ Roy. He had to be; Roy would never say these kinds of things voluntarily.

"I can't breathe," Roy muttered. "I'm dizzy…and I can't breathe…because my chest hurts… I can't… My eyes are…fuzzy. Black 'round the edges. And my face is hot…but my hands are cold. What's happening? What is this?"

"You're panicking," the stranger stated gently. "Try to calm down. There is nothing here that can hurt you."

Roy nodded a little, his feet tapping quickly. They suddenly stopped, and he shot a quick glance around. "Edward?"

The Fullmetal Alchemist sat up straight. "Yeah?"

Roy shook his head. "Okay. You're still here."

"'Course I am," he said touchily. "Just listen to what that weirdo's telling you."

Roy looked back at the boy, who placed a hand on his. "I need you to take a deep breath and then hold it, counting to two. Then let it out, and do it again. Can you do that?"

Roy nodded quickly, his feet tapping wildly once again. "'Kay."

Minutes later, the 'shaman' released his loose grip on Roy's wrists and stepped back. "How are you?"

Roy closed his eyes and put his head back in the chair. "Tired. Tired and hot."

"You would be," the boy explained. "You've had plenty of hormones pumped into you. And hot flashes come with panic attacks."

Roy opened one eye. "A panic attack? That's what that was?"

The boy nodded.

"That's a new one," Roy commented, leaning back again. "Never had that happen before…"

Edward reached forward and slapped Roy in the back of the head. "That's for scaring the crap outta me."

Roy opened one eye, looking irritated, and did the same thing back. "_That's_ for hitting me in the head."

"Hey! That isn't even fair!"

Roy shifted his attention to the boy with the white hair. "What's your name? Who are you?"

"I'm Tyrell," he replied. "I'm a shaman, or a witch doctor - I heal people and read fortunes for a living."

"Thanks for your help," Roy said gratefully. "My name's—"

"I know who you are," said Tyrell dismissively. "You're the Flame Alchemist, Roy Mustang. And he's the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric. You're being sent as representative of Amestris at the meeting. Edward is posing as your son so he can back you up should things go wrong, am I right?"

Edward blinked, astounded. "That's exactly right."

Roy didn't know whether he should be impressed by the skill Tyrell had just shown, or angry that Edward had just given them away.

Tyrell pulled a small, patterned piece of cloth from a pocket inside his cloak and grabbed the bottle of water from Roy's side. He poured a little of it onto the cloth and handed it to the man.

"Hold that against your forehead. It should help cool you down a little. And then have a drink," he ordered.

Roy did as he was told, looking curiously at Tyrell under his hands. That boy held an odd power, and Roy was quite interested as to finding out what exactly it was.

"So," Edward said, rolling his auto-mail wrist and scowling. "Why are you on this coach? Any particular reason?"

Tyrell smiled politely. "Yes, actually, there is. I'm going to the same place as you. A representative of Orato, a tiny little country to the west of Aerugo. You probably haven't heard of it."

"Contrary," said Roy. "The country of Orato was originally a tiny territory that was taken over by Aerugo, but later on had it's independence demanded by the citizens. It was granted, and Orato has been a close ally of Aerugo's ever since."

Tyrell clapped his hands. "You know your stuff, Colonel. That's good, considering your future plans. As a matter of fact, Orato's such a close ally of Aerugo's, it's a wonder they still bother to be two separate countries."

The aura inside the coach thickened a little as the three passengers realised that they should probably be hating each other right about now.

Tyrell broke into a grin. "But don't worry about all that stuff. We're all on the same side now, aren't we? And besides, politics is boring."

It then struck the Colonel that Tyrell was very young, no more than eighteen surely. This raised a question as to why _he_ was the ambassador of a whole country.

Roy removed the cloth from his face and looked Tyrell in the eye. "Why is it you're representing Orato? You're awfully young."

"Same reason as you, Colonel Mustang. It got pushed down the ranks. My father, the nation's chief, is confined to bed rest to recover from illness, my elder brother is handling foreign matters with a neighbouring county and my mother and elder sister are women, and therefore aren't permitted to come."

"That's a little sexist," Edward said pointedly.

"That's how we roll in Orato," responded Tyrell with a shrug. "All about the men."

"Wait," Roy said slowly. "If your father is the chief, then doesn't that make you…?"

"Second in line to the throne," Tyrell finished lightly. "Dull, I know."

Edward looked Tyrell up and down, astonished. "So you're like, a prince or something?! What's with the get-up?!"

"Wearing layers and layers of robes is so overrated," Tyrell explained. "I wanted a change. And because my parents aren't here to tell me otherwise, I can wear whatever I like!"

Roy and Edward exchanged a confused glance and looked back at the cheesily grinning boy as they both tried to wrap their heads around his eccentric attitude.

Roy frowned. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen!"

"So, you're the chief's son?"

"Yup!"

"And you're being sent to Kambei as a representative of Orato?"

"Yup!"

"And you're dressed like a peasant because you're bored of wearing fancy clothes?"

"Yup!"

Roy shook his head in disbelief. "I fear for what this world is coming to sometimes, I really do."

Tyrell pouted. "Aw, but being all proper and having all those dumb old _manners_ is such a drag."

Edward's face lit up. "I think you and me are gonna be good friends."

He held out his metal arm and Tyrell took it, only to recoil immediately, flapping his hand in the air. "Ow! Hot!"

"Whoops. Here, just shake my left hand then."

"Okay."

Tyrell reached forward with his right hand and the two boys fumbled about for a bit before Tyrell finally put out his left arm and they shook hands.

Edward grinned again and set his chin on his right palm.

"OUCH! GODDAMMIT!"

Roy groaned and put the cloth over his face again, covering his eyes. "_Fear_ for this world."

* * *

The smoke is thick and stifling and heavy. It's so oppressive, it's going to crush him. But it's light, too, and even his short breath blows it away.

So clingy, draping over his shoulders and drifting around his feet, entwining itself about his body and caressing him.

It's licking him softly, but each time it touches him, it sears his skin painfully and he cries out.

It's grip is strong and absolute; he is fastened into one place by the tendrils of thick black and wispy white. If he moves, it's gentle, wraith-like hold will become sharp like a knife and tear him to shreds.

He is still, save for the movement of his chest as he inhales the choking air, his breathing quiet, fast and scared.

Everything in this black emptiness is pure heat - it rules over every inch of the place apart from his body, but it is pressing in. It wants him, it wants him, it wants to claim his life as well.

The fire is a beast; it has no qualms about who it burns. That's it's job, isn't it? What use is a fire that leaves something untouched?

The fire doesn't care if he is the king of flames, he's still able to be set alight and burnt to ashes, so that's what the fire will do.

He whimpers again, like a puppy caught in an unwanted, overly loving embrace as another wisp of smoke trails across his face and stings his chin like a blade.

Everything here is heat and pain, except for the one thing that allows him to escape from his suffering. Everything here hurts him except for the soft release of his weakness.

Everything here is strong and ambitious except for the flicker of doubt that dashes his face.

Everything about him is fire except for the tears that Roy sheds in his nightmares.

* * *

Roy awoke with a huge, shuddering breath.

His gaze snapped quickly left, then right and he relaxed with a deep sigh. He was slumped in one of the four seats the coach offered, wrapped in a thick blanket to protect himself from the icy chill of the desert by moonlight. The two drivers swapped shifts up the front of the carriage so that they would only have to spend one night in the uncomfortably climated area that was the Eastern Desert.

Edward was fast asleep in the chair beside Roy, Tyrell tucked neatly into his own seat opposite. Both of the boys seemed not to have been disturbed by Roy's quiet awakening.

Good.

Edward had undone Roy's ponytail in favour of putting it into a low-down, loose bunch, stating that it was uncomfortable to sleep with the tie pressing into the back of his head.

Several strands had worked their way loose and they blew to and forth with Edward's breath. He smirked occasionally in his sleep, but he also growled, as well as grimaced and sighed.

Roy yawned silently and pulled a stiff arm out of the blanket to rub his face clumsily. He shook his head to clear the last clinging fragments of his dream and settled back down, the little hairs on the back of his neck gradually relaxing.

_Like hackles on a dog_, Roy thought sleepily, quite pleased by this strange discovery. _When I'm scared I'm like a dog, with the hair and all the glancing around._

He smiled wearily, as if to reassure himself that he was not trapped in a land of black where smoke was trying to kill him, and closed his heavy eyes again. _I am a dog…of the military…_

* * *

**Anyone read Masashi Kishimoto's **_**Naruto**_**? Well if you do, in that last bit picture Edward with Hyuuga Neji's hair.**

**I know these last chapters are sort of fillers, but the action will start in the next couple of updates. I'm trying to stick all the boring let's-get-the-two-state-idiots-to-Kambei-in-the-fi rst-place stuff in this and the next chapter, kay? Hee.**

**My little sister is obsessed with Ouran High School Host Club. My friendship circle is split down the middle as to who is better; Hikaru or Kaoru? (I think it's Kaoru.) If you watch that show, tell me who you like better out of the Hitachiin twins. (Personally, I prefer Tamaki and Mori to both of them. Heheh.)**

**Please review! Thank you to everyone who has, and everyone who favourited and followed as well.**

**Goodbye, in English!**

**Sayonara, in Japanese!**

**Au revoir, in French!**

**Adios, in SPANISH!**

**Yolo, in Hipster!**

**Arrivederci (wait, I learned that language for seven years and I still don't know how to spell that right…), in Italian!**

**Zip flam doo, in some language I just made up!**

**Zakuro out, in gangsta!**

**Something I don't know, in German…!**

**Okay, I'm all out of languages… Heh. So it's rainbow time! *rainbows off***


	4. Of Hijacking and Hidden Talents

**I'm going to do this thing where I make a reference at the start of each chapter. Whoever guesses correctly first wins an imaginary gold star, their name mentioned the next chapter and the satisfaction of knowing they won.**

**"It gives me great pleasure to do this… BIGGEDY-BAM!" (Super-big gold star to whoever gets that. It's pretty hard, maybe. Wait, which fandom am I talking to?! You guys'll prob'ly get that.)**

_**Of Hijacking and Hidden Talents**_

* * *

_Thump._

Three people snapped awake, sharing a sudden, startled glance.

That was the sound of heavy leather boots landing on the roof. Roy recognised it immediately. He stifled a yawn, shaking his head quickly to rid the bleary fog still sliding through his sluggish mind. He needed to be sharp if this came down to a fight - although he really hoped it wouldn't; he still hadn't quite recovered from his sudden panic attack yesterday.

Roy looked up at the roof, lighting up the lamp hanging there whilst Edward and Tyrell watched him expectantly. He simply motioned for silence by placing a finger on his lips. The man then noted the look in Edward's eye that said he comprehended the situation, and the nervous tensing that told him Tyrell knew it as well.

Judging from the continuing of the carriage, the drivers didn't.

Roy pulled open the curtain facing the front of the coach, tapping the current driver, an older man with black hair going grey, on the shoulder. Whilst he did, he took into account their surroundings; they were travelling down the middle of a steep, rocky ravine heading towards open land. Perfect.

The man turned, opening his mouth to speak but closing it as he caught sight of Roy's finger once again over his lips. Confused, the man cocked his head.

Roy pointed towards the roof, his dark gaze locked calmly with the driver's. "Slow down gradually," the Colonel said softly. "We can take them. Take care of your partner."

The other driver, who obviously had this shift off, was nudged awake and hastily informed of the situation. This one, a young man with messy brown hair, looked panicked as he nodded and complied with Roy's plan.

There were several more thumps on the roof of the coach - Roy supposed the attackers were jumping from the top of the ravine onto the carriage. There would likely be more waiting in the open space ahead.

Watching out between the two fretting drivers, Roy tapped their shoulders in a silent order to slow down.

They obliged, and as they did a shotgun was pointed down at them. The younger man hiccuped, sweat trickling down the side of his face.

"Pull over and no-one gets hurt," said a voice from above. It was heavy with some exotic accent which reminded Roy of the few Xingese tourists he'd met.

Edward clapped lightly and there was a flash - quickly smothered by the curtains - as he transformed his auto-mail forearm into a short blade, nodding at the Colonel as the black-haired man pulled on his ignition gloves.

Tyrell glanced quickly about the coach, drawing his cloak tighter about his shoulders. He looked quite anxious.

As the coach slowed to a stop, Roy tapped the young shaman's shoulder gently, whispering. "Don't worry. Ed and I will handle this. We're alchemists trained in battle. Although, you probably already knew that. Just try to stay away from the bullets and things."

Tyrell nodded apprehensively.

"Everyone out of the carriage!" came a loud shout from outside. "Hands in the air!"

"Ed," Roy hissed. "Stay behind. When you hear me attack, jump out, throw up a wall and then we'll take down all the stragglers."

The boy nodded, touching his hands together in preparation.

Roy and Tyrell stepped out into the arid wilderness, where about seventeen - way more than Roy had expected - masked bandits stood lined up before them, most armed with guns and knives. Every other man held a bright lamp, casting light across the barren land.

Roy analysed the layout of the battlefield. The bandits were in a wide semi-circle, so that there was no way he could hit all of them in one shot with a low-level blast. But they were too close for a powerful attack; there wasn't enough space for the flames to enlargen before reaching the agressors. He couldn't snap with both hands either - that move was hard to control in close quarters and Tyrell was right next to him. Roy quickly adjusted his plan.

"Is that all of you?"

"Yeah," Roy lied easily. "Please, we're not defend-_ed_. We don't have a body-_guard_ or anything. There's no-one _left_."

"Alright, then," said one of them, the man who'd shouted before. Probably the leader, in Roy's guess. "We need you to hand over all your valueables, money or jewelry, whatever."

Roy shrugged and smiled bashfully. "Oh, so sorry. We don't have much we can give you! Only a couple of cens…"

"So they all say," muttered one of the bandits.

"Alright," the head bandit said again. "We know you two aren't just any tourists. This is a scheduled coach from Amestris carrying the representatives for two of the countries to the alliance meeting in Kambei. So you must have _some_ money worth talking about."

"Tch." Roy bared his teeth. "Found out."

The man directly to the speaker's left sneered, showing his own pointed yellow teeth under his mask. This one had a different accent, one Roy recognised as rural Amestrian. "Like that there pawkit watch, f'rinstance…?"

Roy pulled out his pocket watch, flicking it open and examining it. _Two o'clock in the morning… I really don't have the energy for this…_

"I can understand why you'd want this," he said slowly, fingering the sliver rim expertly. "It's made of the finest grade silver, the craftsmanship is first class, and it adds an aura of sophistication to the man wearing it…not to mention it gives you access to the huge sums of money we state alchemists are supplied with for our research."

A couple of the men exchanged worried glances at this, some taking steps back as Roy stowed the watch away again.

"Ah. I'm a state alchemist. I forgot to mention that, didn't I?" Roy rubbed his forehead and through his hair as if he were angry at himself for not doing so earlier. "Courtesy tells us we should always introduce ourselves before fighting."

Roy cut his act instantaneously, moving his hand down and out in front, slightly to the right. "I'm Colonel Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist. Don't forget it."

With that, he shouted, "Edward, now!" and snapped right out with a wide jet of flames. He grabbed Tyrell's wrist and hauled him backwards and to the left.

_"RRRAAAAARRGH!"_ Edward, accompanied by a ferocious battlecry (as per normal) came flying out of the back of the coach and skidded into the dust on all fours, slamming his hands into the ground and raising a great, rocky barricade just as the bullets rained down on them from the remaining bandits.

"Well, you're especially _flamboyant_ tonight!" Edward called to his superior, whereas Tyrell pressed his back into the wall, his face pale and his mouth pulled into a terrified grimace.

"What, and you weren't?" Roy retorted, casting a scathing glance in his direction. He nodded once and both of them jumped out from behind the barricade and charged forward, Roy snapping pinpoint attacks, throwing the thieves backwards and dodging bullets.

Edward used his blade to slice at bullets flying his way and throwing high kicks, smashing punches and alchemically summoned stone hands into the assailants.

As they went, Roy called out, "Your fighting style is so brutal. No finesse, no respect, no delicacy or savior-faire…"

"Oh, yeah?!" Edward growled. "Like you've got any so-called 'safwar-fairy' or whatever - you just blow s*** up!"

"Savoir-faire, Ed, savoir-faire…" Roy tutted as he snapped his fingers once more, shaking his head disapprovingly. "For instance, if you want to win the heart of any woman, you must approach her with gentle tact… Show her the softer side of your persona and have some amount of poise and politeness."

"How the hell did you go from fighting style to pretty women?!" Edward yelled angrily, slamming a metal roundhouse kick into someone's head.

"Everything eventually leads back to pretty women, Ed," Roy said pointedly. A thought struck him as he jumped backwards away from a sword. "But hey," he said as he flamed the man. "Whenever did I say _pretty_ women?"

"Will you shut up?!" roared the Fullmetal Alchemist, glaring at Roy as he clapped and smashed a huge boulder into a man.

"_Someone's_ defensive," teased Roy. "And I didn't even know you were _mature_ enough to fully _comprehend_ such an _adult_ matter…"

"WHO ARE YOU SAYING IS AN IMMATURE LITTLE BRAT WHO HAS THE HEIGHT OF A SIX-YEAR-OLD?! And what's _adult_ about it?! It's just _girls!_ Just you and your disturbing obsession with them! It's not like they're any different from men! Just look at Lieutenant Hawkeye! And my Teacher! What can a man do that a woman can't?!"

"Like I said, you're not _mature_ enough to understand what a woman can do…"

"OH, GOD NO! SHUT IT, YOU OLD PERVERT!"

Edward finished the sentence, panting, and shot a glare around. The scene was clear - a few of Roy's stray flames burned into the night, but apart from that, all their foes had fallen.

Roy shoved his hands in his pockets, surveying the scene calmly. "That takes care of that," he said nonchalantly.

Edward didn't speak, just panted heavily as he caught his breath. He stared lasers at the Colonel, his imminent fury burning in his fiery golden eyes.

A piercing yell rang out into the silence.

The two alchemists whirled on the spot to see Tyrell on his back with one last bandit standing in front of him.

"You missed one!" Edward accused.

"No time for that now!" Roy snapped back.

The bandit drew a sword and pointed it at Tyrell's throat. The boy gulped, his violet eyes wide.

The bandit looked half-mad, his torn mask hanging from his face and a demented grin stuck on his face. "Time to die, kiddie!"

Tyrell cast a glance at Roy and Edward, who both jumped forward.

Roy couldn't shoot any flames for the risk of hitting Tyrell, and Edward was too far away to reach him in time. He was about to fall to his knees and attempt an alchemic stunt, but he was too slow.

"Die!" screeched the bandit and thrust his sword down.

"Tyrell!" Edward shouted.

"No!" Roy snatched out.

_"YAAH!"_

There was a clang and the sword was flung away. Tyrell had rolled to the side, tapping twice at the man's hand and sending the sword flying.

Then, with lightning speed and accuracy, the boy slammed his fingers repeatedly into specific spots on the man's body and started to force him back.

Roy and Edward watched, amazed, as the bandit fell sprawled to the ground and didn't get up.

Tyrell, breathing heavily and looking terrified, glanced their way as they ran over. As they bombarded him with questions, he answered with a tired grin, saying, "Fighting is such a chore, huh?"

Edward and Roy faceplanted, and the Second Prince of Orato let out a shaky breath, flicking his wrists. "Let's get going."

Edward and Roy picked themselves up.

"What _was_ that?" Edward asked incredulously as they stepped back into the carriage.

"Pressure point striking," Tyrell explained. "I'll tell you about it later. Just lemme rest now…"

The boy collapsed onto his seat and fell deeply asleep.

Roy shrugged. "I'm with him."

Edward looked baffled for a moment longer, then blinked. "Yeah, me too."

* * *

"He-e-ey… Colonel Bastard… It's time to wake u-u-up…!" Edward's sing-song voice shattered through the peaceful armistice of Roy's sleep.

"Mngh," Roy twisted his head away from the annoying little prat and his loud voice.

"Aww, wakey-wakey Mister Big-shot Flame Colonel! You gonna sleep the whole day away? Are ya? Hm? Hm? _Hm?"_

Roy flailed his arm out in a wild arc, aiming for the source irritating voice. "Grr… Shaddap…"

"Ooh! _Somebody's_ not much of an early bird, are they?" Tyrell's voice joined in the taunt and Roy cracked open one impossibly heavy eyelid, glaring about.

He coughed slightly, grumbling, "What is it…? You'd best have a good reason for this, Fullmetal…I'm _wrecked_…"

"As in, _burned out?" _Edward taunted. _"Dog-tired?"_

The boy leant back to dodge another clumsy punch.

"We're almost there," Edward told him pointedly. "Plus it's getting light out, and you've still got that blanket wrapped around you tighter than anything. And I didn't think you'd appreciate us letting you sleep in to show up with bed-head like _that_."

"So you _do_ care about people's hair…!" Roy said tiredly, stretching his arms and yawning. He looked about blearily, little tiny suns floating out of his head like something from a manga.

Edward scooped up his own hair and tucked it away in a ponytail, once again managing to look the part for the mission.

"You've got the appearance down now, Ed," Tyrell said, nodding approvingly. "Now let's see if you can act anything like Mr Roy's son might."

"Okay then!" Edward rose to his feet as Roy reached up to smooth out his ruffled hair, pulling off his blanket and then dropping his hands limply at his sides.

After he was satisfied he'd fixed his haired to it's original 'somewhat-tousled' appearance, Roy stood and folded the blanket up and tucked it away under the seat. He stretched his arms some more, letting out a second loud yawn and scratching his shoulder.

"So, we're almost there?" he asked sleepily.

"Yeah. Just about," Edward answered. "The driver guy says it's only ten minutes away."

"Great. No more sand. And it's cooler now." Roy glanced at Tyrell for a moment.

The shaman cocked his head in puzzlement. "What?"

"Did I dream this up, or yesterday, when we fought those men, did you take one of them down by poking him repeatedly?" said Roy slowly.

"It wasn't just poking!" Tyrell protested. "It was pressure point striking!"

Roy and Edward stared blankly.

"I don't really know what that is," Roy told the boy.

"Yeah, me neither," agreed Edward.

"It's where the attacker unleashes high-speed, precise attacks on specific locations on a person's body, normally weak points. Eyes, tendons in certain spots, vulnerable areas, so on and so forth," Tyrell explained. "All shamans back in Orato have an extensive knowledge on human anatomy, so this fighting style suits us to a 'T'."

A look of realisation had reached the two alchemists faces.

"Understand?" Tyrell asked, his face serious.

"Yeah," they answered in unison.

"Alright." Tyrell sat back in his seat with a sigh. "You people…"

Roy frowned, placing his hand in his chin. "Hm…"

"Something on your mind?" Edward asked.

"Yeah," murmured Roy with a slight nod. "Those bandits from before… How did they know who we were? How did they know where we were going and when we'd be there? It all smells a little fishy to me…"

The three stewed on this for a moment, before Edward abruptly broke in with, "Well, we've almost reached the place we're headed. And we beat their butts already. So don't worry 'bout it!"

Tyrell nodded excitedly. "Kambei ahoy!"

"Kambei ahoy!" Edward repeated, grinning.

Roy smirked and folded his arms. "Kambei ahoy."

* * *

**That was quick. Both the update time and the chapter. But don't worry, this is more just a little filler to keep you happy.**

**Thank you to The Lazy Alchemist, who came up with the idea of the bandit attack. Now there's some action in here (I like action) and we get to see a little of Tyrell's talents shine through.**

**To everyone who said that Tyrell reminded them of Ling, you'd be about right - that was where part of his character must have snuck in from. He was meant to be a quiet intelligent type, but…heh.**

**He's also a bit of a hipster…**

**To everyone who gave their opinion on the Hitachiin matter, thanks. (And 'I'm with you' to anyone who said their favourite host is Tamaki! But I also love Mori…)**

**Now, I know I said I was going to get all this travelling stuff out of the way really fast, but this is the last chapter of that now! Next chapter, we're in Kambei! Whoo!**

**Review responses:**

**Sparky - Heh. That will almost definitely show up later.**

**lotrprincess - HOW DID YOU KNOW?! Heh. I just love those darn outtakes. Have you seen the Fullmetal Alchemist one?**

**KAMBEI AHOY! *rainbows off***


	5. Of Kambei and Kin Palace

**Yoyoyo, whassap?! Finally got my hands on the Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood OVA collection! YAY! Everything is so much better on T.V. than on Youtube. My reference of this chapter (an easy one this time);**

"**You **_**look **_**human."**

"**No, you look Time Lord!"**

**And the person who guessed first correctly first last time was ImperialAffliction! Congrats to everyone else who guessed Nullmetal Alchemist.**

**Now, everyone who lives on Earth that's currently reading this, picture Kambei as a cross between India and medieval Japan.**

* * *

_**Of Kambei and Kin Palace**_

"Woah!" Edward stared wide-eyed at the sprawling city of Ranri, the intricately decorated buildings and fancily-robed people catching his every glance. "This place is _totally_ different to Amestris!"

"Yeah," Roy agreed, holding his case over one shoulder and his free hand in his pocket. "It's so clean here…"

"Meh," Tyrell shrugged. "It's pretty okay. A little bit fancy though."

Describing the place as 'fancy' was probably an understatement, and looking at the canvas duffle bag Tyrell was using as a travelling case made Roy wonder what kind of a country Orato even was; if the royalty lived in a place just as fancy, what unseen force compelled him to dress that way?

The trio had just made their way into the city and were standing on the main street, seemingly a business district. As soon as you stepped through the city's huge main gates you stepped straight into the hustle of this place, where people made their way about like ants, the occasional dog or cat wandering across the scene. The street was an average size, but the sheer contrast between Kambei's capital, Ranri, and Amestris' Central was astounding.

Where Central had tall, grey, concrete buildings and messy cobble streets, Ranri had pretty, oriental-style buildings and neat, clean walkways. Where Amestrians wore trousers and shirts and coats and hats, the Kambeians had odd, robe-like attire, one side folded over the other and held in place with a fabric belt.

The difference was crazy.

Edward ran a hand through his dyed-black hair, still staring around the place like a little child who'd never taken a step outside before. "But look at their clothes! They're all flappy and floaty and folded! It's like they're walking around in dressing gowns!"

Roy watched the boy's antics, amused. He'd only just remembered that this was probably the first time Edward had ever left the country, so it was completely natural that he should be baffled by everything he saw.

It was still funny to watch him, though.

He stared for a little while longer at the foreign city before he dashed back to Roy and Tyrell, looking sheepishly at his superior.

"What?" Roy asked. "What do you want?"

"Um. I'm hungry."

Roy rolled his eyes. "'Course you are. I suppose we have a little time before we need to show up at the meeting. C'mon, let's find somewhere to eat." They started off down the pristine cobblestone road, receiving curious looks from passers-by.

"Hey, wait! I'm coming too!" Tyrell jogged forward and caught up with them. As he drew near, he stated, "No sense in splitting up when none of us have any idea where we're going."

"S'pose you're right there," said Roy, glancing around at the various stores lining the main street and trying to deduce whether any of them sold food or not.

The signs were all in lettering he could read, but the words were foreign to the Colonel. Things like 'nishin soba', 'kimono' and 'onigiri' weren't items he was familiar with.

He shrugged helplessly and tossed Tyrell a glance. "Any idea what we're looking for?"

He nodded. "You need a food joint."

Roy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but which out of all these shops actually sells food?"

Tyrell shrugged. "One or two of 'em, prob'ly."

Roy shook his head. "You're so helpful."

"Thanks!"

He glanced at Edward, who was staring at a particular store a couple of shops down. The boy's eyes moved analytically from building to building, then back to the same one, a place with 'TONKATSU-RAMEN-UDON-SAKE-ODEN' printed over the doorway in bold red lettering.

"That's it," he said slowly. "That's the place we need."

Before Roy could stop the boy, he'd dashed off towards his decided store, his case bumping against his leg and his ponytail flapping. Roy sighed resignedly as Tyrell bounded away after him before following the two teens inside.

Upon entering, Roy was greeted with a myriad of scents, the like of which no restaurant in Amestris had ever supplied.

There were sweet and spicy smells, and the aroma of a variety of meats filled the air. Roy thought he detected a trace of alcohol somewhere in the mix.

The whole place radiated an aura of poshness, the several other patrons talking and laughing quietly at tables scattered around the place.

Edward and Tyrell were standing at a counter with their backs to Roy, seemingly conversing with the man behind.

He walked up to join the two, setting his case down at his feet and glancing around to try and take in all the different aromas and sights.

"What's the closest thing you got to stew?" Edward was saying, leaning on the counter.

"Stew?" The man cocked his head, a puzzled expression on his face. "I don't know what that is."

"Ack!" Edward's eyes widened. "How can you not know what stew is? It's like, gravy with potato, onion and steak and sometimes pumpkin, y'know?"

The man continued to stare blankly.

"Sometimes there's herbs in it? Rosemary? You put it in a pot, and heat it all to cook it? And you mix it, not so much that you squish it all up, but not so little that you burn the parts at the bottom."

Edward kept going as Roy watched, the younger alchemist becoming increasingly descriptive in his explanation of stew. His expression was no longer one of disbelief; it was drifting more towards nostalgic longing.

"Then you put just the right amount of seasoning in it, usually rosemary or chicken stock, and you serve it with bread so you can dip it in it…" Edward trailed off. "Nah, forget it."

"Sounds like nikujaga," the man said eventually.

"Sounds like what now?" Roy asked, cocking his head.

"Nikujaga," the man repeated. "Potato and carrot in a light chicken broth."

"Eh. 'Bout right," decided Edward with a shrug. "I'll have that."

"I'll have ramen. Extra naruto, hold the celery," Tyrell ordered. "If you please."

"Nikujaga, ramen, and you?" The man behind the counter pointed at Roy. "Want anything?"

Roy glanced at Tyrell. "You seem to know your stuff. What do I want?"

"Well, I dunno what type of food you like, but you can't really dislike yakisoba. Easy."

"That, then," Roy said with a shrug, fishing around in his pocket to try and pull out the money from the budget the military had supplied them with for the trip. "How much?"

Tyrell reached for his bag, but Roy stopped him. "Consider it thanks for helping out on the way here," the Colonel said, pulling out the required amount from his wallet.

"Here." He placed the money on the table and a young lady in a silky violet robe embellished with tiny pink flowers showed them to a table.

"Sake?" she offered gently, lifting the jug she was carrying slightly. Roy could tell immediately from the smell it was alcoholic.

He somehow managed to resist the strong temptation to accept the drink, and declined with a respectful tip of his head. "No thanks."

"Can I—" Tyrell started.

"You're underage," Roy put in quickly, before the the boy could even ask. He cast a glance at Edward. "And so are you."

"I wasn't even thinking that!" Edward protested with a scowl. "That's _yourself_ you're thinking of!"

The girl covered her mouth with her free hand as she giggled. "You two sure are a funny father and son," she commented before wandering away.

Edward gawked as she left, then laid his head on the table. "She… She thought we were…"

"That's a good thing, Ed. It means this whole play is believeable and we're not just making fools of ourselves," Roy pointed out.

"Making a fool of myself anyway, even if it succeeds," muttered Edward grumpily.

"You're always making a fool of yourself. You are a fool."

They bickered on like that for a while, if only to pass the time as they waited for their food. Tyrell watched in light amusement as the two tossed insults at each other like they were having fun doing it.

About twenty minutes later, the food arrived. Edward's was gone almost as soon as it hit the table, however, and Tyrell wasn't far behind.

Roy poked around at the mix of noodles, meat and vegetables on his plate a while longer than the two, eventually deciding that it couldn't be that bad. In fact, he decided right now he liked the slight ginger hint to the whatever-it-was, and ended up finishing it.

"Good?" Edward asked, eyeing the few noodles and chunks of meat left on Roy's plate.

"Yeah, pretty."

Edward's gaze remained on the pitiful amount of scraps Roy had left.

"If you're that desperate, have them," he sighed eventually.

"Yes!" Edward grabbed the plate from the other side of the table and greedily wolfed down the scraps. After the boy was satisfied he'd basically licked the thing clean, he sat back and smirked.

"So," Roy started. "You seem to know a lot about making stew."

"Yeah, well, it's pretty much the most widely used dish in all of Resembool," Edward said with a shrug. "Mom cooked it, Granny cooked it, Winry learned how to cook it, I'm pretty sure Alphonse can cook it… Heck, even I could probably cook it if I tried."

"I see."

"But mom's was always the best, I reckon. She always knew just the right amount of herbs to put in it, and she made a separate batch for Alphonse, 'cause he doesn't like onions in his…" The boy broke off, a distant look glazing his golden eyes as he placed his chin on the table, smiling. "Mm-hm…"

Roy cocked his head. _He lost his mother really young, didn't he…? Yeah, that's right. He was very young when she died, and then he went off training with his brother. That's when they…_

Roy watched the boy continue to sit in silence, grinning a little stupidly and laying his head down sideways.

Tyrell stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom - I'll be back soon, so don't leave without me."

Roy followed the boy's path across the room before flicking back to Edward.

He might be grinning like a cheshire cat, but it didn't reach those tell-tale eyes of his. Everything showed in them. The boy could have the strongest pokerface in the world, but unless he closed his eyes, you could see right through it.

Well, Roy could anyway.

A happy smile, but eyes filled with bittersweet sorrow. Like he was wearing a scary mask, but anyone who was brave enough to look up into the eye slits could see tears.

Edward sat that way for a minute longer, his soft smile frozen in place. It was almost starting to weird Roy out, so he spoke up.

"You okay there, kid?" Roy asked. "You'd best think about something else before Tyrell comes back or he might 'read' you and figure out the truth behind those limbs of yours."

Edward snapped up. "What?"

"You're freaking me out with your state of depression."

"How'd you tell…?" Edward said softly, his expression dubious. "No-one's been able to distinguish the difference on my face before."

Roy's brow twisted into a frown. "It's pretty obvious to me. You can't pull off an expression like that if your eyes aren't on board. Take it from me; I'm sort of an expert at this kind of thing."

"Yeah?" Edward said, folding his arms on the table and putting his chin on them. "Then I'd better improve my mask…"

"No, don't," Roy suddenly put in.

"Huh?"

The Colonel opened his mouth, puzzled, then closed it again. _Why did I just say that?_ He frowned again before saying quietly, "It might get to the point where your brother might not even be able to tell what you're thinking. And before you say, 'That's a good thing', it's not. He might know you even better than _you_ do. And if he doesn't know what you're thinking, you sure as hell won't. And you don't want to get so good at hiding your own emotions that even _you_ can't tell how you feel."

Edward stared blankly, then smirked. "Wow, bastard. That was deep."

"Yeah, that was a bit weird," Roy agreed. "I have no idea where that came from."

"I'm back! If you're done here, let's go!" Tyrell re-entered, waving his arm jovially.

Edward still hadn't fully shaken out of his little daze, and Tyrell was looking curiously his way.

"So, I was thinking, Ed," Roy began, attempting to change the subject. "It might be easier to lie and say that you're only twelve. Because I'm only twenty-nine, and if you really were my son it would mean you'd been born when I was fourteen. I know seventeen isn't much better, but I can stretch a little and say I'm thirty-three. Because you could definitely pass for a twelve-year-old. I mean, you haven't exactly changed much physically since then."

Edward snapped up. "Who are you saying is a little tiny bean so small he hasn't grown an inch since he was a baby?!"

"Oh, no-one. Just a certain boy who admires me so much that he's pretending to be my son and has even dyed his hair black."

"We-heh-ell, _it sure ain't me then!"_

This argument continued as the trio made their way outside again, looking around for any clue as to which direction they were supposed to be travelling in.

Edward gave a loud, attention-drawing roar as Roy began to ignore him completely, instead focusing his energy on Tyrell.

"I don't suppose there's any way you can use that weird shaman power of yours to foresee which direction we're meant to be going?"

Tyrell shot him a look that made Roy think he might have been retarded his whole without ever having realised it.

"I told you, I read _people_, not street signs. What are you, stupid?"

"Careful what you say, kid. I am a Colonel, you know. I can do all sorts of things to you."

"And I'm a shaman. I can curse you. Like, to have your face mutilated and horrible itchy spots growing all over you."

"Yeah, right. The likelihood of that ever—Hey!" A small sign caught Roy's eye.

A young man of about twenty stood at the end of the street, his gaze fixed directly on Roy, Edward and Tyrell. His face lit up as he met their gaze, and he gave the impression of a small dog being praised by it's owner. In his hands, he held a papery-looking sign with the words 'Mustang and Torfell' printed on. The threesome's strange attire must have attracted his attention.

"That must be the guy we want, huh?" Edward asked, pointing at the man with a thumb.

"Yeah, I'd put my money on that," replied Roy.

"I didn't know your surname was 'Torfell'. You just introduced yourself as 'Tyrell'," Edward said as the three made their way over to the man.

"Do you really think I wanna tell people my name is _Tyrell Torfell?"_ the shaman grumbled. "Do you know how dumb that sounds? Plus, I seem so much more mysterious when I say 'I am Tyrell. I'm a shaman.' Or, 'I'm a witch doctor', y'know?"

"Fair point," Roy said, nodding. "Fair point…"

"You guys are…Roy and Edward Mustang and Tyrell Torfell?" the young man asked. "Here for the alliance meeting?"

"Yes. Colonel Roy Mustang," Roy stated, holding out his hand. The young man shook it, nodding.

"Inuya Kamagawa," he said. "Pleased to meet you. I'll be escorting you to your accommodation. And these two must be…?"

"Tyrell the witch doctor and and my son, Ed."

"Yo," Tyrell said, waving.

"Yeah, hi," Edward added. "I'm Edward Ehhl…Mustang."

"Good. That means all the representatives are now present!" Inuya said with a grin. "Let's go! To the castle!"

"The castle?!" Edward and Roy echoed in unison. They'd had no idea the place they'd be staying would be somewhere so grand.

Tyrell sagged. "Damn. Another fancy-pants castle."

This earned him a worried look from his two companions, who had several concerns about his sanity.

"Grab your things and follow me!" Inuya exclaimed cheerfully, totally ignoring Tyrell's statement. He whirled around on the spot and bounded away, whistling.

"Now, that's probably the most slap-happy fellow I've ever met," Tyrell commented as they rounded the corner Inuya had been waiting for them at.

"Mm-hm," mumbled Roy in agreement. He glanced off to the side, at a smaller, sophisticated-looking joint just to their right. It had a single window, but bamboo shutters were drawn over it and the walls were painted a charcoal colour. The sign above the door said, 'Ranri Ai', and on the door itself in big red print were the words '18 plus. No minors'.

Sounded like Roy's kind of place.

"Hey, you perverted old doofus…" There was a prod on Roy's shoulder that snapped him out of his scheming to somehow escape the meeting and sneak out somewhere fun. "Quit starin' at that slutty place and look up there…"

Roy followed Edward's gaze up at an imposing building that was rising up in front of them. It stood several stories higher than all the other tall structures in Ranri, and gave off an aura of authoritative power.

The architecture was brilliant; each floor had a slanted protrusion from the otherwise straight design - a pagoda, if Roy recalled correctly - and the top floor had a magnificently embellished roof, with carved stone gargoyles in the forms of faded gold lions and dragons lining the edge.

Each of the protrusions were painted a bright red with a black trim, the corners giving off a golden gleam. If he looked close enough, Roy could distinguish small golden spikes on the very points of the building.

Overall, the magnificence of the structure was overwhelming - from an Amestrian's point of view anyway.

"Meh." Tyrell shrugged. "Pagodas are _so_ mainstream."

This comment made no sense to neither Roy nor Edward, who both continued to be impressed by the Kambeian style of palace.

Inuya led the way right up to the gates of the place, spurting out basically the entire history, landscape and culture of Kambei as he did.

"Down south, you'll come into contact with the eastern side of the South Sea, where the waters are warm and tepid and the beaches are long and golden… The first ruler of Kambei was the brother of a Xingese Emperor, hence the similarity between Kambeian and Xingese culture… The capital of Kambei - the city we're currently in - has various places for all your entertainment needs, from theatres and playgrounds to bars and our very famous 'Ranri Ai', which you may have noticed on the way here…"

Roy tried his best to absorb some of the information their guide was sending at them in rapid-fire succession, nodding where necessary and glancing around.

When they reached the castle's great wooden door, which was built into a brick wall, Inuya said, "This is Kin Palace, the heart of Ranri. Welcome to the place you'll be staying for the next week and a bit."

As the wooden gates were heaved open - presumably by guards on the inside - Roy took a moment to bask in the glory of it all; a little stream running across the grounds, a small pebble path winding it's way up to the entry and a small footbridge to cross the stream, pretty trees with little pale buds showing and wavy grass sprouting all over the grounds.

_Maybe,_ he mused, _this won't be so bad._

* * *

The grandeur of Kin Palace was enough to shut even Tyrell up; the shaman had resorted to shooting sneaky glances around at his surroundings.

The walls of every room and corridor were decorated with the finest wallpapers Roy or Edward had seen, and you couldn't walk more than a few metres without seeing some fantastic work of art; sculptures littered the building and expensive looking paintings hung everywhere.

The columns that held the building up were carved from marble and trimmed with gold, boasting thin grey lines through the pure white stone.

The towering pagoda itself was only part of the palace, the rest of it being a sprawling ground floor complex sectioned into different areas. The Emperor - a man whom Roy had only heard snatches of rumours about and Edward less still - was said to live on the topmost floor of the place.

Inuya's excited babbling still hadn't ceased. He was beginning to remind Roy of a certain Lieutenant Colonel.

"Oh, Kambei is just so happy to be the host of such a prestigious event! This is the first time it's being held here, you know! No offense to Amestris, but I think the Emperor was starting to get bored of travelling there every time for the meeting!"

"So we're actually staying in this place?" Edward asked, still in a partial state of disbelief. "Here?"

"Yup!" Inuya confirmed with a nod. "In one of the guest rooms! Now, the corridor I'm currently leading you down heads straight to the guest compound, where all of the attendees will be staying. You can take the rest of the day to recover from your journey as the formal meetings don't start 'til tomorrow, 'kay? And by the way, this corridor itself was designed by a very famous architect…"

Around five minutes later, Inuya led them around one more corner before waving his arm in an exaggerated flourish, gesturing at the several doorways that lined this hall.

"And this is the guest compound! Your rooms are right down the end there, next to each other! Lucky! Colonel, Edward, you two have a section to share, but it's the largest of the lot and has two separate beds. I think there may be a spare sleeping quarters in there as well, so three beds in total."

"Goodie," Edward muttered. "More time to spend with my favourite daddy."

With a bow in their direction, Inuya dismissed himself. "Hope you find the rooms to your liking. If you require anything at all, do not hesitate to ring a bell and summon a maid. Now rest up, it'll be busy tomorrow!"

"Thank you for your assistance," Tyrell said with a smile. Roy noticed, with a start, that he wasn't actually that bad in looks. A scrub up and some neater clothes could work wonders for the boy…

"Yeah, thanks," Edward echoed, his eyes on the carved ceiling above their heads.

"Thank you," Roy said as well, nodding in the guide's direction.

"It was my pleasure!" he responded, beaming. "If you need me, just call!"

With his last words hanging in the air, the young Kambeian bounded away down the corridor and disappeared around a corner.

"Slap-happy," Tyrell said again, nodding approvingly. "Yes, I like him. He's good."

Roy turned to the doors the guide had motioned to and then tossed a glance back at the two teens beside him. "Alright. Tyrell, you're that one, and me and Ed are here."

Tyrell was about to move off when Roy intercepted him. Lowering his voice, he added, "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't tell anyone about Edward's and my situation. If anyone finds out that _two_ of Amestris' most powerful state alchemists are here, we will have hell to pay."

"Eh. Don't worry. I won't tell anyone - what could I possibly gain from it?" Tyrell told him just as quietly. Going back to his normal pitch, he continued, "Plus, I kinda like you guys. You're funny."

Edward pulled a sour expression.

"You just gotta keep the act up yourselves, now," the shaman said in a whisper before opening his door and vanishing behind it.

"And what act would that be, Roy Mustang?"

Roy gave a start at the sound of a cold, saturated-in-dislike tone. He sneered, an unusual expression for his smirking type of face and turned on his heel to face the one-and-only Prince of Aerugo, Claudio Rico.

"Nothing you need concern yourself with, sir," Roy responded, his voice dripping with distaste and laced with venom.

Edward looked back and forth between the two men, his face twisted into a frown of puzzlement. "Eh?"

"Didn't know you had a son, Mustang," the newcomer eventually said, his sentence more a cautious question than a statement.

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

The Prince held Roy's gaze a while longer before narrowing his eyes by the tiniest degree and saying in a falsely light voice, "You're up to something again, Colonel. I don't know what it is, but you'd best watch your back. You and your son both."

He whirled around with a flap of his cloak and disappeared back into his room with a soft _click_.

"Tense," came Tyrell's voice. He blinked his purple eyes at the two, his face poking out from a crack between the door and the wall. "I sensed something was happening so I had to look." The boy flicked his head at the door. "Watch out for that guy. He doesn't like you."

"And you're not Captain Obvious in the least," Edward said drily.

Tyrell pouted, an offended look on his tanned face. "Aw, I was just tryin' to look out for you guys. If you don't like me, I'll go sulk in a corner over here."

He halted briefly. "But seriously, watch out for him. He's dangerous. Trust me - I know."

He was gone again.

"Roy," Edward said after a few seconds, his voice a little quieter and more cautious than normal. "Hand away from gloves."

Roy's gaze snapped downwards to his right hand, which was reaching for an inconspicuous pocket on his side without him having realised.

"Oh." He dropped his hand. _"That_ would have been a bad idea."

Edward glanced over his shoulder at the room the Prince was occupying, his eyes narrowed. "Hmm…"

"I don't trust him," Roy stated. "Not in the slightest. Don't go near him if I'm not there, okay?"

"You either. If I'm not there, you might accidentally end up sending him sky-high."

"Point taken. It's probably best we share a room, actually. That way we can keep an eye on each other…"

Roy pushed open the doors to their accommodation, not surprised to find that it was decorated with the same lavish design as the rest of the castle. The first room they stepped into had two sofas crafted from some expensive fabric and a coffee table, with a small corridor branching off to the side.

Investigating this corridor, Roy found that there was a small bathroom, a bedroom with one double bed and another bedroom with two singles on opposite sides of the room.

The double was normal enough, a pretty average looking bed to Roy (not counting the fancy sheets and hundred pillows) but the singles were really odd.

They were like two super-sized cushions rolled out on the floor, both sporting bamboo patterns and a tiny pillow which Roy presumed was to be used as a headrest.

He poked one of them and Edward did likewise, the two discovering that they were actually incredibly soft yet supportive.

They exchanged a bemused glance before deciding they could live with sharing the room.

"What time do you reckon it is?" Edward asked nonchalantly, having no means of telling. He couldn't see a clock on the walls of the room and he hadn't brought his pocket watch.

Roy reached for his side, running his finger up the chain hanging from his pocket and drawing out his watch. "It's about…quarter past one. So we've got some time on our hands."

"Hm," Edward looked about the room curiously. "Where in Ranri do you think the library is?"

"No idea. I'm sure we'll find out soon. You can ask around tomorrow," Roy said. "For now, I'd prefer for you to hang about here until we get our bearings. And besides, you can't tell me you didn't bring anything to entertain yourself with. That case of yours feels like it's full of bricks."

"Yeah, I brought a few reference books…" Edward admitted, flopping down on the couch unceremoniously, dropping his case beside himself. "Just in case there was stuff I needed to look back on whilst I investigate the library here. Foreign countries sometimes have different symbols from ours, some I don't really know very well, so I had to bring my notes. All of them."

A grin flashed over Edward's face momentarily. "I normally leave them in a nice, safe place. But they're with me this time. So right now—" He pointed a thumb at his case. "—that case is my most prized possession. It's got all my research notes and everything in it. All the stuff I've found out about alchemy, about forms of human transmutation and the Philosopher's Stone."

Roy looked at the case, which was now acting as the boy's foot rest.

"It's my life's work."

Roy smirked. "You use your life's work as a prop for your feet."

"Sometimes I stand on it," Edward added. "Or sleep on it."

Roy laughed, a single husky noise, and moved over to occupy the opposite sofa. He rested his head against the back of it, blinking wearily.

The palace was nice, he'd admit as much, but Roy was no fan of rapid location switching. Travel did not suit him - he planned to inch slowly up to the spot of Fuhrer and remain there.

Moving to Central he didn't mind, it was similar to East City and meant he was getting closer to his goal. But another country was just an unnecessary shift. And if that Aerugo guy was going to be right there the whole time, so much the worse.

"You don't like to travel, do you?" Edward spoke up suddenly. The boy was subconsciously perceptive.

"Not without good reason. Like I said, this is just a troublesome expedition with no benefit to me," Roy grumbled. "And Ishbal didn't exactly help the fact any."

"Oh." Edward shrugged. He heaved his case up onto the sofa beside him and started to rifle through it. With an amused smile, Roy noticed the boy had packed more papers, books, journals, leaflets and documents than he had clothes.

"I'm gonna revise some of this stuff, 'kay?" Edward said decisively. "If you need me, try tossing a rock at my head. I may or may not notice."

Roy nodded. "Right then. I'm just going to fall asleep on this sofa. If you need anything, try tossing a rock at my head. I probably won't notice."

_Fwump._

Edward glanced up just in time to see Roy close his eyes, sigh, slip sideways down the couch and fall asleep all in one smooth motion.

"Huh." Edward's eyes moved back to his notes. "He was tired, then."

Roy's breathing slowed in a matter of seconds, leaving him slumped sideways with his head against the armrest. His neck was being pressed at an awkward angle, giving him the appearance of a man who'd simply collapsed out of exhaustion.

Which, quite frankly, he had.

Edward flicked over the first few lines of the small-ish brown, leather-bound book he'd picked up.

_Liore was good. The food was hot. The sun was out the whole day. Our goal is still standing strong. A little baby cried on the whole coach trip up until it's mom shoved a dummy in it's mouth._

He smiled a little when remembering the time he wrote that - it had been hastily written and badly coded. This was his journal from a couple of months ago, in which he'd recorded all his findings of that time. Of course, to protect said findings, Edward hid his words in the form of a rough travelogue, almost with a neglected sort of feel.

That particular day, he'd been sitting up in the middle of the night trying to remember what the ancient alchemic symbol for the Philosopher's Stone was; surprisingly, it often escaped him. When he'd finally remembered, he'd snatched his logue and scrawled out that one phrase before collapsing asleep.

What he'd meant from that sentence was 'The lion swallowing the sun is the symbol for the Philosopher's Stone, dummy!'

His gaze flicked up to Roy.

Then back to the book.

Up to Roy.

Back to the book.

Up to Roy.

He sighed.

The man just looked so…uncomfortable with his neck bent out of shape.

_That's gonna hurt in the morning,_ thought Edward uneasily. _There's no way that isn't gonna_ not _hurt._

His gaze shot to the side.

Then the other side, as if he was looking to see if anyone was watching. Of course, the room was empty save for the two of them.

Edward stood, grabbing the cushion off the sofa he was sitting on and shoving it in the gap between Roy's shoulder and the sofa. Then he went around to the other end, grabbed the man's feet and tugged roughly. Roy's head slipped from the arm onto the cushion, albeit heavily.

Edward strode back around to his previous position and sat down, resuming his revision and flicking to the next page.

_Yes,_ he thought proudly, glancing up at Roy to see him roll over and hug the pillow to his neck. _Better. Now his his head won't be stuck on sideways. He won't be as grumpy, I don't think._

* * *

**Likey? Hatey? Don'treallycarey? Mwaha, tell me. I wanna know.**

**So, we're **_**finally **_**in Kambei. And the excitement begins next chapter! Whoo!**

**All you readers and reviewers and favouriters and followers are awesome. Thanks for everything - the readers are just about ninety percent of the story!**

**Responses:**

**midnightstardust: FIRE IS EVERYWHERE! :D Thanks for telling me about episode twelve being put up!**

**lotrprincess: HAHAHA! That part. I died. On the inside, obviously, or else I wouldn't be writing this. My favourite outtake in that collection was when Roy was shouting at Riza about Ed's leg in the second last one (I think - haven't seen it in ages).**

**Next chapter is gonna be awesome. Keep an eye out! *RAINBOWS AWAY AGAIN***


	6. Of Flames and Flawed Concepts

**HEHEH. I HAVE RETURNED. IMAGINE THE GRIN OF SMUGNESS.**

**Winner of last reference: lotrprincess! It was Doctor Who. Heh.**

**This time it is;**

**"Shut up."**

**"I didn't say anyth—"**

**"You were thinking. It's annoying."**

**Shiny gold star, up for grabs!**

**And now, starring angst, THIS CHAPTER! HA!**

* * *

…_and my younger brother collected another cat from the corner. The weather in that part of the country is calm, it doesn't rain much. That's good, I don't like the rain. Next week, we head off for—_

Edward's eyes forced themselves closed as he yawned, stretching his arms and looking around. His books and papers were strewn all over the floor, sofa, and coffee table. It was beginning to darken.

Roy's shadowy figure still occupied the other sofa, his broad back was to Edward, rising and falling slightly. His shoulder twitched occasionally.

Edward grabbed at his papers, sweeping them into some form of organisation. After he'd sorted them, he placed them all back inside the case and closed it, letting out a long sigh and folding his arms.

"Mmh!"

Edward looked at Roy. _Is he waking up?_

Roy twitched again, this time significantly more noticeably.

"Mustang?"

No response. False alarm. Edward settled back down only to perk back up a second later as Roy rolled onto his back, his left arm falling off the couch and hitting the floor.

His face was slightly creased in places, as if he were frowning. Edward flinched as Roy suddenly sank his fingers into the pillow, twisting his head to the side and moaning.

"Mustang? Hey, Roy?" Edward called softly. He bit his lip.

"…no…_no_…" Roy twisted again, his shoulders pulling taught. His expression was still something like painful turmoil, and for the first time, Edward noticed sweat on his face in the dim light.

He looked almost…frightened.

"Roy?" Edward's voice seemed small and quiet in the suddenly intimidating room. He pulled his knees in close and called out again. "Roy…?"

Roy grit his teeth and tossed his head once, sharply, before his eyes shot open and he gasped out, "Gloves!"

Edward looked across at him warily, his golden-amber eyes gleaming dully as the light flashed over them. "Gloves?" he repeated.

Roy sat up and looked at him confusedly, his eyes appearing even darker than normal. "Who…Edward?"

"Yes, Edward," the boy replied sarcastically, almost defensively. "That's me. You are Roy. This is a coffee table, and that is a sofa. That's a _carpet_, and that's a _wall_…" He began to point at the objects he was naming. "…painting, suitcase, vase…"

"Okay, okay, I get it…" Roy raised a hand to his face and rubbed his eyes, then wiped his forehead on the inside of his elbow. "Where are my gloves?"

"I dunno," responded Edward. "In your pocket or something?"

Roy swung his legs off the bed and patted them down, sighing as he reached the middle of his thigh. "Yeah. There."

Edward watched, not quite sure how to react, as Roy closed his eyes again and rubbed at his forehead. He sat back against the chair, and as Edward looked closer, he realised the man's hands were trembling.

"Are you okay?" Edward asked cautiously, moving his feet back onto the floor.

"Yeah." That was the only response Roy gave.

"Okay, then." Edward looked towards the window. The sun was beginning to set, the fancy buildings of Ranri outlined with fiery red as the sky began to darken from red streaked pink to dusky violet.

_"Are_ you okay?" murmured the boy again. "Because you don't look okay."

After a few seconds of consideration, Roy replied with, "It was nothing. I'll be fine."

"'Nothing' my ass," Edward retorted with a flick of his dark ponytail. "That was a nightmare and we both know it."

"I said I'd be fine," Roy repeated firmly. He didn't meet Edward's eyes. "So just drop it. I'm going to bed. You should rest too."

The boy watched Roy stand up and make his way down to the bedroom without another word. He disappeared into the darkness of one room, leaving Edward alone in the other.

He sat there for a moment before grabbing his case and following. He stepped into the room as well, catching sight of Roy's white shirt in the darkness. The man was lying on his back with his hands behind his head and staring at the ceiling. His eyes slid to Edward for a second, then back up to the roof.

The young alchemist reached behind his back and tugged the tie out of his hair, shaking his head roughly to straighten out the lengthy black bangs. He put the tie on top of his case before pulling off his gloves, placing them with the tie and struggling with the braces for a bit.

Roy raised one hand and beckoned the boy over. "'Mere."

Edward crossed his arms huffily and stomped over. Roy sat up - even then he still reached at least Edward's waist. He reached up and swiftly undid the clasps before flopping back down on the oversized pillow. "There."

Edward grumpily tied the braces up in a ball and threw them at his case before unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it there as well.

Now adorned solely in the black trousers Alphonse had willed him to buy in a bid to look at least half-normal, Edward himself dropped heavily onto the fluffy thing. His auto-mail arm hit the carpet with a metallic thunk, whereas his flesh arm made a soft thud.

"Hey, Mustang?"

"What?"

Edward cleared his throat. "Back in the Eastern Desert when you…uh…m… You said your fire almost killed you. What do you mean?"

Roy sighed. After a few moments, he said, "Why do you want to know? It's not really…an enjoyable topic."

"Curious. It just didn't make much sense to me. But it's not that important. If you don't wanna tell me, don't."

"I see." Roy fell silent, and Edward supposed he wasn't going to tell him anything. He'd almost closed his eyes when the man spoke up again.

"It means just that. I almost burned to death."

Edward glanced at him. The man's eyes were tired, living in a time period that Edward couldn't access. He appeared older now, the boy decided. He was younger than all the other Colonels and Generals around, but now Edward could see that a military man's real age wasn't how long he'd lived, but rather how much he'd experienced.

How much of the world he'd seen.

How much of his loyalty he'd devoted to his cause.

And how many people he'd killed.

In that aspect, Roy was much older than any General Edward had met.

"I was ordered into an inhabited district to exterminate any Ishbalans I saw. But, by that stage, just about everyone knew who I was - the Flame Alchemist. I was directed into a huge maze of a market building, and the Ishbalans I'd been sent to kill laid a trap for me. They knew they couldn't face me and live, but they could at least try to bring me down with them. They sacrificed the last of their kerosene to get at me, dousing everything so that when I snapped, the whole place went up in flames. Tenacious lot, they were…"

Roy trailed off and was silent briefly before continuing. "I was running for ages, choking on the smoke and my fingers and feet were getting burnt. I thought I was going to die there, and so I compiled a list of all the stuff I'd wanted to do and wouldn't be able to. You can imagine my shock when I stumbled out of there a second before the roof caved in and killed everyone inside."

Edward listened in mute intrigue, his head cocked at little on the side as he did.

"It took Hughes a full day and a couple of slaps to convince me I wasn't dead myself. After that, I came to realise something," Roy said solemnly. "I might have the ability to start fires and send them at whatever or whoever I want, but once they're out, I can't fully control them. Fire's a dangerous thing. Spend too much time around it and you'll eventually get burnt."

As if to prove his point, Roy rolled back his sleeve and held his arm out in Edward's direction. In the dim lighting, Edward could only just make out patches on the man's hands where the skin was a slightly different tone, or places along his arm where the fine hair no-longer grew.

"If you look carefully enough, you can see all my close encounters. My fingertips are permanently a different colour now. And all those burns there were from that one event. It was then I realised that fire just doesn't care."

Roy drew his hand back in towards himself. "It'll burn anything and everything 'til there's nothing left but ashes. I thought I'd already knew that, but… Heh," Roy smiled humorlessly, raising that same arm into the air as if to examine it. "I was a fool back then. And I probably still am. Fire's dangerous. You can't control it. Even if you've spent as long studying it as I have, it's still unpredictable. Just when you think you've got it contained - crack! - out comes a spark and it's burning away on the outside again."

Roy's smile faded and he lowered his hand. "I always asked myself if a power as reckless and uncaring as fire could be used to do something constructive. After much thought, I decided no, it couldn't. My alchemy blows things up, for goodness' sake."

"Yeah, but…" Edward began quietly. He couldn't think of anything to say. Roy had just…talked to him…with words that sounded…_almost human_. Not like the normal words that came from that jerk afflicted with some type of god-complex.

"You look like a stunned fish, Ed. Is it so surprising that I have emotions?" Roy mumbled. As an afterthought, he added, "Probably."

"I've just… I've never heard you talk about your flame alchemy like it's a bad thing before," Edward explained. "You usually talk it up."

Roy chuckled a little. "Yeah, I s'pose. But think about it. It really is demonic sometimes."

"But you can use it for good," Edward pointed out. "You just have to send them in the right direction, don't you? Burn the bad guys."

"Frankly, I don't know whether to be reassured by that or not," said Roy softly. "It's such an innocent, naïve notion."

"But it's logical, isn't it?" Edward argued. "If you're on the good side, and you only do good stuff then…"

Roy looked at Edward, his smile defied by tired eyes. "It's surprising you haven't figured it out already, Ed. In real life, there is no such thing as right or wrong. And when you do what I do, morals go right out the window. Isn't that right? After all, I am a 'morally corrupt bastard with a god complex', as you so eloquently put it."

Roy rolled over so his back was to Edward. "A piece of advice, Edward. Don't try to live by concepts like justice and mercy. Because your enemies sure won't."

Edward frowned. He could tell he wasn't going to get anything more from the man.

"I know that…" he said slowly, holding his auto-mail hand out in front of his face and moving it about so it made clanking noises. "I know the world doesn't really respect equivalent exchange. The entire prospect is warped to sound better. I had a whole load of stuff happen to me and I still can't figure out what good came out of it. The world is cruel like that. If we do one bad thing, it pays us back - with interest. It's not like 'do something good and get something good in return'. It's not 'endure something painful and something nice will happen'. It's 'put one foot out of line and get punished for it'. If you do something good, you don't get anything in return. If you do something bad, you get something _worse_. That's the _real_ equivalent exchange."

Edward rolled to face the other way.

"Life isn't fair; I've said it, you've said it, _everyone's_ said it. For everything us alchemists live by, equivalent exchange sure is a flawed concept. It works against us all the time. Like Alphonse. He was just following me, but he ended up worse than I did. I should have been the one affected the most; it was my idea. Perhaps he wanted it more, perhaps he somehow deserved more punishment than I did. And Winry, her parents died at war. Where's the equivalent exchange _there? _And all those Ishbalans who died there too, where's _their_ equivalent exchange?"

Edward sighed angrily, irritated by his own loose tongue. This, in his opinion, was one of his greatest failings. When he was mad, he spilled out all his thoughts like a tipped can of paint.

"And Nina Tucker, where's _her_ equivalent exchange? She didn't do anything to earn what happened to her! If anything, it was her father who should have been on the receiving end of that! No, he just died quick and painless, where she had to spend her last moments in pain and in a mutilated body until she was killed! And she didn't even do anything; she was just a little girl!" he growled.

"And where's Alphonse's equivalent exchange? He lives every day in a hollow can, living possibly one of the hardest lives I could think of, just for one little mistake that was all _my_ idea, _my_ fault in the first place! That doesn't even make sense! I made one little error, I did one thing wrong, and he was the one that paid for it. Where is this so-called 'equivalent exchange'? Where's his, and hers, and theirs?! Everyone's?! Where's… Where's _my_ equivalent exchange…?"

Edward's voice shook with rage now - he was no longer talking to Roy, he was just venting his frustrations to the night. He continued, gradually falling more towards hollow sadness and grief now than his previous anger.

"I can tell you now. I know. It's no-where, that's where. Equivalent exchange is just a pitiful excuse we hide behind, trying to justify our actions by it and pretending like we understand the world. Deceiving ourselves by saying that we'll eventually get paid back for what we've done. Fooling ourselves into thinking things are going to be better one day. Making us think that maybe…we could actually do something to fix these things… That maybe…there's hope for people like me and Al…"

Edward let out a huff of breath and folded his arms against his chest. He closed his eyes, sick to death of looking at the world that was hell bent on smashing him to the ground over and over again.

A soft warmth on his shoulder caught Edward's attention. That same slightly burned hand was now resting on his arm, the owner looking as expressionless as ever.

"Just don't," he said softly. "Don't say that. I told you not to trust enemies to live by justice and morality, so you should try to expect that. I've spent a long time trying to find the right places and situations… Where to keep to things like morals and compassion…and where to forget them. Where to go ahead and shoot to kill."

Roy shrugged. "But in all that time, I've discovered that you can't ever predict the correct time and place to show mercy. It's all in the spur of the moment. I could be given the order to kill a man, and go straight ahead and do it. But what if I knew that man? What if he was my friend? What would I do then? We humans are easily influenced. So I tried to wrap my own feelings up as best I could and hide them away. I must seem so cold and heartless to someone as young and inexperienced as you…"

Roy gave his head a quick shake. "But I think you can understand that concept quite well. You can hide away those things like righteousness and integrity, but don't ever let go of something as pure and beautiful as hope. In this world, no matter how dark it is for you, there's always one little pinprick of light there. Hope. Don't ignore it. Don't try to get rid of it. Don't forget it."

"That's what I'm saying," Edward muttered. "We're all fools deluded by that useless thing we call hope. We cling to it like it can give us salvation or freedom. Even power. Money. Fame."

"Absolution?" Roy put in softly. "Forgiveness? Peace of mind? I know. Both of us hope for the same things, Edward. You should understand where I'm coming from when I say you can't afford to give it up. There are people relying on you."

Edward stared stubbornly forward. He didn't speak, just glared silently at the window. "No offense, Roy, but I can't trust you. In fact, you're one of the most unreliable people I know. Besides, your situation and mine are totally different. You can't know…what this feels like."

"It feels like you've got chains attached to your bones and heart, dragging you down to the ground. It hurts physically, like there is really steel piercing your flesh. It feels like you couldn't move, even if you wanted to. You're tired, fed up, frustrated. Guilty. Confused, even," said Roy gently. "You feel like you could lie there forever. Maybe even like you could just die."

Edward shifted slightly, his eyes moving up to Roy. He didn't say anything.

"I can't tell you I know exactly how you feel. I can just tell you how I felt and think you might be feeling right now," Roy said, his eyes lit with a strange, impossible mix of compassion and apathy. "I can't say that everything will be alright in the end. I don't know that. It'd be stupid to say so. I can't even tell you I fully understand. I'd be lying, and that won't help either of us. But I can say for sure that neither yours nor your brother's situations will be improved any by losing hope. So don't."

Edward's eyes moved back to the wall.

"If you give up, you'll be disappointing everyone. Especially me."

Edward tensed.

"I have high expectations for you, Edward Elric. I'm proud of how much you've progressed this far, and I believe that if you try, if you put all your effort to it and pursue it doggedly, you can achieve your goal. So don't let me down."

With that, Roy went back to his own bed and settled down in complete silence. Edward listened to his breathing, and could tell he was asleep.

The boy sat bolt upright, tossing a glance Roy's direction and then down at his hands. His eyes were stretched open in baffled surprise. In his own cold, professional manner, had Roy just told Edward he was…_proud of him?_

Wide-eyed, Edward pulled the top of the bed over himself and curled into it, strangely enlightened, a little bit…happy? Happy that Roy thought he could do it? Happy that Roy had faith in him? Happy that Roy was _proud_ of him? _Huh?!_

No. That thought…was just…ridiculous… Edward's consciousness faded.

On the other side of the room, Roy smiled. For someone who's slept in dorms as a young man, he knew exactly how to fake being asleep.

_Such a naïve concept_, he thought wearily. _And yet…so true._

* * *

**Shorter than I thought. Hopefully it's got enough good writing skills and stuff in it to make up for that. Like they say, 'Quality over quantity'?**

**Review responses;**

**lotrprincess; Remember a couple of chapters back where you said about Roy having lots of little scars from mistakes? Yeah, well, I thought that too, and I finally managed to stick it in somewhere. Yeah, it was Doctor Who, although it was Eleven and Amy Pond. And those various foodstuffs **_**were**_ **pulled from their respective manga/anime. Inuya, however, was just a name I pulled out of no-where because his character reminded me of a puppy. Heh.**

**SapphireClaw; Multi-coloured G-strings indeed… Heh.**

**THANK YOU TO ALL OTHER REVIEWERS! LOVE YA'S! Also everyone who's followed and favourited! Together, we will rise through the ranks of and make EVERYONE wear miniskirts!**

* * *

**Bonus Thingy (because I can): Boring Rant**

"…Where is this so-called 'equivalent exchange'? Where's his, and hers, and theirs?! Everyone's?! Where's… Where's _my_ equivalent exchange…?" Edward broke off, panting.

"Zzz…" On the other side of the room, Roy snored and rolled over. "Zzz…"


	7. Of Flashbacks and Fashion Sense

**Hello everyone. I'm here again. So. This is a short chapter - just because it is - and I'm posting it now because I'm going away somewhere in the next four days. (Really don't want to.) Also, today's weather was very muggy - to echo Roy's earlier statement, terrible luck on muggy days. To prove this point…I broke a door.**

**gaap237 was the winner of that last reference, as the first person to get it. Far more people guessed it than I thought; Sherlock!**

**This reference is;**

**"I'll be watching you, Wazowski. Always watching. Always!"**

**Heh, it's from one of my favourite movies.**

_**Of Flashbacks and Fashion Sense**_

* * *

"…and it is such a great advantage to us all that every one of our admirable countries can join together in this unified state. I for one am sure that together we will achieve much…"

The Emperor of Kambei, a man of about forty and average appearance - brown eyes, black hair, slightly wrinkled face and kindly smile - yammered on about 'great countries' and 'astounding feats', on and on and it was boring Roy to death.

Most of the other attendees were listening intently, smiling and nodding, taking sips of the fragrant tea they'd been offered.

They were situated in a great, exquisite hall with a huge table down the middle. The Emperor occupied a large chair at the end, and Roy was situated about halfway down from there. There were somewhere around ten people there in total.

The Colonel picked up the pen he'd been been supplied with and began to doodle aimlessly onto the notepaper on the table in front of him.

Before he knew it, the Fuhrer had somehow appeared on the paper underneath a scrawled drawing of Roy's own person, who had his foot planted firmly on the older man's back. 'VICTORY!' had been written in block letters above that.

Roy had just subconsciously doodled treason onto a piece of paper.

He quickly and furiously scribbled over the top of it, his face going a little red. Next to it, he quickly scrawled out a few notes and professional sounding words.

"Colonel Mustang?" The Emperor's eyes were on Roy, who quickly noticed that everyone elses' were as well. "Are you quite alright?"

Roy, startled, looked around at the pairs of eyes all staring at him and muttered, "Yea—yes, I'm fine. Thanks."

Roy looked down, feeling his cheeks burning. _I shouldn't be here,_ he thought. _Not yet, anyway. I'm probably the lowest ranking man here. I can literally feel everyone else looking down on me. That's why I'm so far down the table. Normally the representative of such an influential country as Amestris would be further up, but someone like me…_

Risking another glance around the hall, Roy spotted Prince Claudio further up on the opposite side of the table. Tyrell was seated to the right of said prince, shooting worried glances at him.

Roy's brow furrowed. _Tyrell mentioned that Aerugo and Orato were close countries, didn't he? So wouldn't the sons of their two countries' rulers have been together a lot as children? If so, why is he acting that…_

Tyrell flinched and looked at the floor as Claudio sent a glare his way.

…_scared of him?_

The Colonel picked up his pen again, one eye still on the shaman across the room.

Enviously, he remembered that Edward would now be off in a library somewhere doing whatever he wanted. _Lucky kid,_ Roy thought grumpily. _This meeting is boring me to tears._

Setting his pen to the paper again, Roy began to sketch randomly once more, his hand moving on it's own as his half-lidded eyes watched the Emperor's movements.

He recalled the moment in his past where he'd received the unwelcome news that he would be travelling to Kambei.

_The door to the outer office of Colonel Roy Mustang opened quickly, slamming into the frame as a burly, excessively muscled man shoved it into the wall._

_The ensuing noise was enough to startle the headset right off Master Sergeant Kain Fuery's head, the younger man jumping to attention as what seemed like a hundred men streamed into the room._

_Havoc snapped out of his doze, whipping his feet of the table and trying rather unsuccessfully to disguise the cigarette in his mouth by sucking it in as far as it would go without burning his lips._

_Lieutenant Hawkeye clicked open the door to the inner office, peering out curiously and blinking. She turned her head, calling back, "Sir, I think there's someone here for you."_

_Breda stood up, holding his arm in a salute and stuffing the last of his food into his mouth hurriedly, whilst Falman hovered by his desk and moved his hand to his forehead._

_As the soldiers fanned out around the room, a gap was formed just in front of the door and in stepped none other than Fuhrer King Bradley, waving jovially at the Colonel who'd just appeared in the doorway opposite, his somewhat tired demeanour becoming one of shocked stupor._

_"F…Fuhrer King Bradley…" he uttered in surprise, snapping his wrist into a salute. His hand trembled as the effect of writing and filing an unusually high amount of paperwork began to set in. His hair was messy and his uniform a little wrinkled, leaving him looking somewhat dishevelled. "You should have warned us of your arrival… We would have cleaned up a little first."_

_The Colonel suppressed a yawn; this was one of those days where it would be opportune for the Fuhrer to _not _show up._

_The entire office was exhausted after having to sort out the masses of paperwork that was the aftermath of capturing an up-and-coming serial killer and the recent state alchemist application exam. Roy glanced at the soldiers lining the walls, picking out a familiar face amongst the Central men._

_Hughes shot him a quick smile from his position, twisting his hand a little in a wave._

_Roy looked back at the Fuhrer, who then put everyone at ease and said, "Ah, not to worry, Mustang. Now, I'd be much obliged if we could move into your office, there's a matter I need to discuss with you."_

_Roy cringed, casting a glance back into the cluttered inner office. "If we must…"_

_The Fuhrer chortled as he moved into Roy's office, leaving his entourage milling aimlessly about outside._

_Roy caught Hughes breaking ranks to catch up with Havoc, and probably to share his latest additions to his photo collection with the rest of the Colonel's men._

_Roy glanced around his workplace, sighing. It was a mess, with huge stacks of paperwork piled up wherever they fit, and because of the ridiculous workload, Roy hadn't even had the time to clear up the normal clutter - pens, screwed up balls of paper, books, timetables - so all of it had just accumulated and was beginning to swamp the place._

_"Apologises about the mess, sir," Roy said dully, tugging on the hem of his jacket in a bid to straighten out the wrinkles._

_"Ah, this is a good thing. All this hodgepodge is proof that you're working hard!" The Fuhrer laughed again and Roy shifted aside several stacks of paper to gain better access to the seating._

_Both men sat down opposite each other and the Fuhrer said, "So, Colonel, how has Eastern Command been treating you?"_

_"Relatively well," Roy answered carefully. "There's been a lot happening in this sector, which of course means paperwork for us, so we haven't been taking it easy, by any means."_

_"I see," Bradley responded. "Well, if that's the case, you'll be glad of the news I have to give you. You know about the annual treaty meetings that the countries allied with Amestris hold? Amestris hosted it two years back."_

_Roy gave a nod._

_"Yes, well, this year it's being held in Kambei, that little country down in the south-east. But I can't attend, because we're trying to form an alliance with Drachma, as impossible as that may sound. And they demand that I be there. All the details are classified, so don't even bother asking."_

_"But sir," Roy began to protest. "That's obviously a trap! There's no way a country like Drachma would ever—"_

_"Yes, yes, I know that. But the General up north says it may be worth a shot at least - and also that if things go wrong, her soldiers will be able to take out many of theirs in one sweep."_

_"But there's always the chance that you could get—"_

_"Oh, I can handle myself!" Bradley said light-heartedly. "But the thing is, we need to keep our old alliance with Kambei and the new, fragile one with Aerugo solid."_

_Roy's eyes narrowed slightly out of puzzlement. "So we have to send a representative. But you can't go. Which of the Generals can?"_

_"None of them," Bradley answered. "Each one is busy - you can check if you want."_

_"I believe you, sir," replied Roy. He hesitated before asking, "What does this matter have to do with me, if I may ask?"_

_"A logical question indeed…" Bradley stood, wandered to the window and peered out, his moustache twitching from a smile to a serious expression. "Here's a pop quiz. You're a smart man, I'm sure this won't be any work at all for you. If all the Generals are busy, Mustang, which rank is the next most likely to be sent?"_

_"That would be Colonel, sir," Roy answered without thinking. His face became abruptly devoid of it's previous confusion as he realised what this meant._

_"Very good. And your rank is…?"_

_"Colonel, sir," Roy responded. "With all due respect, Fuhrer Bradley, why me? I'm sure there are Colonels within our midst who have served longer and are much more worthy candidates for this than I am."_

_Bradley's back was now to the younger Colonel, who was watching somewhat nervously, unsure of what would come next._

_"Why you, you ask?" Bradley echoed. "The answer is quite simple."_

_He moved back to just behind the Colonel, where the raven-haired man could not see him. "I want for the representative of this country to have a younger, more powerful appeal to our neighbours. I am sure that the renown of a man such as yourself has probably reached their ears already."_

_Roy's brow furrowed._

_"Let's be honest here," Bradley began, a tone of lightness re-entering his voice. "Who do you think has more of an influence on the other representatives at this meeting? A dashing young man of great intelligence with many years ahead of him and a great power at his disposal, like you, or an old dog like me who can't go anywhere without an escort at his heel and is moving towards the latter half of this great tale we call life?"_

_"Sir," Roy said quietly. "You said only moments ago that you can handle yourself - and besides, that theory could work in the opposite. The other countries could end up seeing Amestris as an irresponsible country who give their positions to people far too young to handle them."_

_"Yes. I had considered that. I had also considered the fact that Prince Claudio Rico of Aerugo would be attending, with whom I understand you are not particularly friendly."_

_"Not overly so," Roy muttered, his face dark._

_"The fact that you two aren't exactly on good terms adds to the tension between our two nations. And then there's the 'irresponsible nation' problem… Which is why I have come up with a clever solution that will successfully kill both birds with one stone. You will have one travelling companion out of your group of subordinates."_

_"Who, Lieutenant Hawkeye? But people will know her. And besides, we're only allowed to send one person, as a sign of respect…"_

_"There is one exception," Bradley interjected. "A child. The representative may bring a son or daughter."_

_Roy became confused. "But who…?"_

_"Why, Fullmetal, of course!" Bradley said with a laugh. "I believe it would be a beneficial experience for the boy!"_

_Roy sat in mute shock, in awe of the sheer craziness of the man they called their leader._

_"By sending you with a son, it appears as though you are capable of handling an important responsibility as well as taking care of your job and still being important enough to represent the country at a prestigious event like this. A model soldier! Wins any way!"_

_"Sir, no-one would believe that Major Elric and I were related…" Roy protested futilely to the man behind his back. "And what if—"_

_"No 'but's, Colonel," Bradley interrupted. "I am sure a clever man like yourself can figure out how to pull it off. I have thought this all through, and I am leaving Lieutenant Colonel Hughes here to help you organise the event. He still does not know all the details, but I am sure you will fill him in."_

_Roy sat still like a stunned fish, his mouth half-open and his eyes wide. "Sir…"_

_"That is all. I leave the responsibility of briefing Fullmetal up to you." Bradley's voice became stricter. "And remember, Mustang; the country's reputation rests on your shoulders. Don't mess up."_

_Then he brightened, slapping Roy in the shoulder heartily. "And take a break, okay? Use this trip as an opportunity to get away from the office and the paperwork! Sleeping at the desk isn't good for you or for your uniform! Good day, Colonel!"_

_Roy stood up and saluted the man, watching in shock and disbelief as he walked out the door and his escort of soldiers flooded out after him, all apart from Hughes._

That man's every appearance is the equivalent of a hurricane tearing through, _Roy thought before collapsing back into the chair, his hand on his eyes. He slammed the door shut with his foot and slipped into a slouch, tired, baffled and annoyed._

_Hawkeye opened the door and stepped into the office, glancing at her superior - who was now sprawled on the carpet with his face pressed into his arms - and raising an eyebrow inquisitively. "Sir?"_

_"When I'm Fuhrer," the man decided monotonously, "I'm not going to randomly go around and hand out missions like that to people who obviously don't want to do them without any warning at all."_

_"What is the mission, if I am authorised to know?"_

_"I'll suppose you are," Roy mumbled to the floor. "I have to travel to Kambei _on business _to the annual alliance meeting as our representative…and I have to bring _Fullmetal _along so he can pretend to be my _son."

_"What is your quarrel with that, sir?"_

_"One; Kambei on _business_, and two; this is _Fullmetal! _He's… He's…_Fullmetal! _Of all the soldiers, why _him? _He's impetuous, rude and hot-headed, not to mention annoying and sulky when he doesn't get his way. And besides that, he's _fifteen _years old! The Fuhrer thinks that having a son will make me seem more responsible, but a twenty-nine year old man with a teenage son just makes me seem like a—"_

_"I wouldn't recommend finishing that sentence, sir," Hawkeye said slowly._

_"Uugghh…" Roy moaned, pushing himself up. He made his way to his desk, flopped down in his chair and put his hand on his forehead, saying, "Lieutenant, fetch Fullmetal and his brother. I get the feeling it'll take quite a while to get him to agree to this."_

Roy breathed a quiet sigh. _Turns out you were wrong, Bradley… These people would respect you a hell of a lot more than they do me._

"I do believe introductions are in order," the Emperor said, rising to his feet. "As we will be spending much time together, it would make sense for us all to get to know each other. So, in a clockwise direction around the table, I welcome you to stand and give everyone your name and a bit about yourself."

The Emperor smiled. "As an example; I am Ryuumaru Kambei, the eleventh emperor of this country. I have three sons and a loving wife, for which I am very grateful. I am forty-seven years old and took to the throne at the age of twenty-five. I hope you all enjoy spending time in my country."

He bowed his head as polite applause sounded through the hall.

The prince of Aerugo stood next, his handsome yet detached face raking the room with cold eyes. "Prince Claudio Rico Aerugo," he stated coldly. "I am the son of the King of Aerugo. That's all you really need to know."

He sat, leaving the rest of the room slightly puzzled.

Next, Tyrell stood, looking around nervously. "I-I'm Tyrell, fifteen years old. I am a shaman, which is like a doctor only with different powers. I have an older brother and sister, and I'm here representing Orato because my father and brother are busy."

They continued in this fashion, until before Roy knew it, the man beside him was standing and introducing himself.

He sat and Roy rose.

"I am Colonel Roy Mustang," he said, as firmly as he could. "I'm thirty-three years old, and have been serving for many years now. I am a state alchemist, an alchemist employed by the military. My wife passed away several years ago, and I have cared for our one son since then. His name is Edward, and he's here with me in Kambei. Thank you."

He sat down, thanking whoever out there had permitted his legs to remain standing long enough for him to say that. Personally, he thought it was a good act; he'd almost convinced himself of those made-up things.

After a few more introductions, they finished and the Emperor continued his meaningless speech for another full hour.

Roy contemplated whether or not becoming the Fuhrer meant you needed to learn how to talk about absolutely nothing for ages on end.

"I hope that in the next week or so, we will be able to reaffirm the bonds that tie our countries together through these trying times. This introductory and welcoming meeting is concluded, so you are now free to roam the streets of Ranri as you please. Thank you for your courtesy."

Roy perked up at this. His notepaper was now saturated in drawings, most of them blueprints for his miniskirt designs and other such pointless - or _high priority_, in _Roy's_ opinion - things.

He slipped it into his jacket in the hopes that no-one would see his top secret plans. Roy wasn't the best artist out there, so any good sketch of the future female military uniform that was legible as a miniskirt was worth keeping.

"And also, we'll be hosting an event at six tonight. All of Ranri's aristocratic society will be present, and we have hired the finest entertainment in the city. We would be delighted if you would all attend. We want to try and give you the most authentic experience possible, so please come in formal Kambeian attire if that's not too much to ask. That is all. Your escorts will guide you back to your quarters, where you can rid yourself of your current formal dress and then they will happily show you to anywhere in the city. Good day."

After this, all the representatives filed out of the room, following their respective guides.

"Colonel!"

Roy turned at the sound of what seemed to be his name now being called. It was the Emperor himself.

"Yes, sir?"

The man smiled, striding forward and holding out his hand. "Oh, there's no reason to address me as 'sir'. I'm not your superior; in this meeting, we're all the same rank. It's just Ryuumaru."

Roy took the man's hand, shaking it. "I think the Fuhrer would prefer I stuck with 'sir', if that's all right. I don't want to come across as disrespectful."

Ryuumaru nodded. "Fine by me. Now, you mentioned before that you had a son with you?"

"Yes. Edward. He's my twelve year old son," Roy stated. "I left him back in our room."

"I see," Ryuumaru rumbled. "Well, I was wondering if you'd like to bring him along to the gathering tonight?"

Roy's mind was filled with many horrific images of what would happen if he brought Edward Elric to a sophisticated event.

"I'm sure he'd love to come," Roy said blandly, kicking himself on the inside.

"Great! I would love to meet him. I'm sure he'll get a lot out of it," said Ryuumaru, reminding Roy a lot of the Fuhrer. The Colonel wondered why everyone thought that the boy would 'get a lot out of' everything. "Now, I noticed during that meeting that you were looking quite out of place."

"Yes, well, I'm not quite used to taking part in matters as important as this," Roy explained. "I'm sure I'll get used to it eventually."

"Yes, I wouldn't worry about it. Like I said; we're all equals here." Ryuumaru smiled again. "I can see great things coming from you, y'know. You're a good man. I can see why the Fuhrer chose you to come here. That's all I wanted."

"Alright, then." Roy turned, and as soon as he was out of earshot he let out a tense sigh and made his way out.

Inuya was there waiting, as bubbly as ever. "Good morning, sir! Back to your room?"

"If you wouldn't mind," Roy said.

"Not at all!"

Tyrell walked up behind the two, hands in his pockets. He was no longer wearing the scrappy beige cloak and shorts, having swapped it for his formal attire - baggy white silk trousers and a short purple vest, all covered by a creamy-coloured cloak. "Hey. I s'pose I should go with you."

Inuya blinked dumbly for a second, then reached behind him and pulled forward a young girl whose resemblance to him was startling. She blushed and looked down.

"Mr Torfell, sir, this is your escort!" he said with a grin. "My little sister, Usa!"

"N-nice to meet you…" she said with a tiny smile. "I'm Usagi Kamagawa, your escort. Name any place, and I'll take you there…"

"Alrighty, then. Let's go back to our rooms. I wanna get outta this thing," the young prince said, tugging on his coat.

The brother and sister led the way back through the winding corridors to the guest compound, where Roy strode in and almost tripped over a stack of books on the floor.

After successfully not tripping over the stack of books, the Colonel tripped over a different stack of books.

And fell over another stack of books.

To then have a separate stack of books fall on his head.

And knock down _another_ stack of books.

_"EDWARD!"_ the man roared, struggling to pull himself out of the swamp of paper.

"BWAH?!" The boy himself snapped upright, sending the book on his face flying across the room. "HUWAZZA?! MNNGAHFUH?! WhudizzitAl? Weunner'ttack?! Ikantaykum! Zeregunz?! Theygodgunz, ya runn'way!"

Roy grabbed the thickest book at hand and launched it at Edward's head with full force. It bounced off, leaving a big red mark on his forehead.

The Fullmetal Alchemist finally came to, glancing around at the mess of books and the Colonel pulling himself to a standing position in the midst of it all.

"Hey!" he protested angrily. "You messed up my books!"

"I messed up your—" Roy repeated in a hiss, flicking his wrists in annoyance. _"I_ messed up your _books?!You_ messed up the _entire room!"_

"For a good purpose!" Edward retorted. "These are all books I've never seen before! Not this type of book, not anywhere! I had to get them; I need to read as many as I can before we have to leave."

"You've got a week and a half, Ed! You didn't need to bring the whole library back here!" Roy growled, attempting to pick his way through the stacks of books. "And how did you even manage to _carry_ all of this?!"

"I grabbed Inuya and we made several trips," Edward explained, stacking and pushing to one side any book he could reach. "Easy."

"You messed up the entire room…" Roy muttered, stacking books left right and centre.

"I know. You've already said that," grumbled Edward, pushing his stacks to the side. "You don't have to point it out again."

"Alright," Roy began. "The Emperor has invited you to come along to a special event tonight. You—"

"Awesome! Is there gonna be free food?"

Roy stalked across the room and vaulted the sofa swiftly, pressing his finger to Edward's forehead. "You. On your absolute _best_ behaviour tonight. If you put one _toe_ out of line, I will make your life in the military a living _hell_ full of embarrassing missions and truckloads of paperwork."

Edward, now leaning back slightly, blinked. "Alrighty then, Colonel Overreacting."

"I am dead serious, Edward," Roy said lowly. "If you screw up here…"

"Hey, relax old man!" Edward exclaimed, whacking Roy's hand away. "I'm not totally uncivilised! I can handle a little party! I'll behave."

Roy scrutinised the boy with narrowed eyes. "You'd better."

He looked around, nodding approvingly at the books which were now arranged in neat stacks in the corner. "Better." He looked to Edward. "And now, we have to go find somewhere that sells formal wear in this city. The Emperor asked specifically that we wear traditional Kambeian dress to the event."

"What, like those weird robe thingies everyone's wearing?"

"Yes. But it's not as if they're any weirder than that get-up _you_ run about in."

"WHAT?!"

* * *

"What about this one?"

Roy gave Edward a scathing look, glaring despisingly at the garment the boy was holding. "No. Just…no."

"What's wrong with it?" Edward asked, looking offended.

"It's _bright red _with _yellow dragons_ on it," deadpanned Roy. "I wouldn't be caught dead in that."

"I like it," muttered Edward huffily. "It's _cool!"_

"Put it away," Roy ordered. _"Now."_

Edward scowled, hanging the thing back up again.

The two had travelled into the town to buy their outfits for the night, and the extent of Edward's hopelessness with yet another topic - fashion, this time - was made known to Roy.

"Try something more like this," suggested Roy, holding out a misty blue robe patterned with silver vines.

"Boring!" Edward stated blatantly, turning away. "You wear that one. I'm gonna find something more exciting."

"Suit yourself. I…quite like this one." Roy turned his head. "Inuya, is one like this okay?"

The escort snapped to attention at the sound of his name. He stepped forward and scrutinised the clothes that Roy held, nodding slowly. "Yes, that one is exactly the type you need."

"Alright. I'm going to try this one on, okay? Inuya, a little help would be appreciated."

"'Kay," Edward returned. "I'm gonna keep looking."

The two men made their way to the back of the store, where Inuya instructed Roy on the complicated steps to fixing the traditional clothing.

Once finished, Roy inspected himself approvingly. He was now wearing the blue garment with the silver vines decorating the edges. Over the top, he wore large, billowing striped trousers - hakama, Inuya had called them - all on top of a light undergarment.

"There," Inuya said, grinning. "It fits you perfectly. Now you just need a haori."

"A haori?"

"Yeah. It's like a coat that goes over the top."

"I see. Can we get those here too?"

"Yeah. Normally they have the clan crests on them, but I'll suppose you don't have one."

"No. Not that I know of, anyway."

Roy stripped himself of the clothing once again, changing back into his white shirt and trousers, throwing his jacket over his shoulders.

"How about this?" Edward asked, raising his fifth attempt up for the two men to see. "Is this one okay?"

The costume he held up this time was a deep shade of red with a black trim, the hakama much the same as Roy's, only smaller.

This one, however, also had a loose black jacket over the top, which Roy guessed was the previously mentioned 'haori'.

"I think you've finally gotten the hang of this," stated Roy approvingly.

* * *

**I don' wanna go to teh bush! Waah. I hope someone gets that reference. I'll see you in a few days. Well, figuratively speaking. Because I won't really **_**see **_**you, per se, y'know…**

**This also means I won't get to read your wonderful reviews 'til then either! OH NOES! Life can suck sometimes. ):**

**Yup.**

**And I watched Fullmetal Alchemist and the Sacred Star of Milos. I finally found it. Yay, Fullmetal Alchemist. Heh.**

**Review, everyone! Next chapter will be longer! And more exciting. So look forward to that. **

**Responses;**

**Pervy-Soulmetal-Alchemist: Yes, Prince Claudio is going to do something EVIL next chapter… )8D**

**nixt j: Glad you appreciate it! I work very hard on that element.**

**Xodiac 451: I'm not sure… What would happen indeed… Let's just hope that together they're smart enough to stop that from happening.**


	8. Of Parties and Pulse Rates

**Hi everybody! I'm back after quite a while. My trip was boring.**

**I haven't updated in a while 'cause school just came back here and I got the new Pokémon (version Y - guess they ran outta colours, huh?) game so…got hooked onto that. Yeah. (Ha, the song in the background said 'yeah' as well. Tennis Court by Lorde.)**

**Reference was Monsters Inc. YAAY! Congrats to over 1006 for the first answer. Everyone else who got is awesome in my books. And everyone else who didn't as well.**

**Hmm… What to do this time… OH!**

**"Have you ever tried shawarma?"**

**A little tougher this time, but I PUT FAITH IN ALL YOU FANDOMS!**

**One more thing - I don't know much about Prince Claudio (since the FMA game he appears in wasn't released outside Japan and Google was being useless) but I needed a sort of evil guy in the mix and he was the best candidate. Apologies if he's OOC or something.**

**ONWARD!**

_**(Of Parties and Pulse Rates)**_

* * *

A large number of people had gathered in another of Kin Palace's great halls, this one with a large, rectangular table to one side and a huge empty area to the other.

Many people milled about in the space, where a large table of finger food had been laid out, the table itself covered with a white cloth and looking about to collapse with the weight of the food.

Edward was eyeing it sneakily, Roy noted.

The Emperor was somewhere in the midst of the crowds, mingling with his subjects quite happily.

Roy noticed Prince Claudio being followed about by a not-so-discreet group of girls. He scowled a little.

Tyrell was somewhere around too, most likely beside the food. He was wearing the same style of clothing as Roy and Edward, only his 'kimono' was pale orange with little violet orchids decorating it. His hair had been scrubbed clean so it shone a strange shade of pure white. Roy had been right - the boy certainly was a lot better looking now that he'd been cleaned up.

The shoes they had been required to wear were something like sandals, but worn over split-toed socks. When putting them on, all Edward had to say was, 'Winry told me once you should never wear socks and sandals. Here I am ignoring her again…'

Underneath Roy's own kimono, stashed away under the belts and layers, was the small pistol Hawkeye had supplied him with - not loaded - alongside his ignition gloves. Edward held the case of bullets on his side.

The boy had his right arm tucked up his sleeve slightly, as if trying to hide his auto-mail. Roy guessed it was because everyone kept staring at it, and Edward didn't want to have to keep explaining what it was, how it worked and why he had it.

"Can I go get some food?" the boy asked quickly, looking pleadingly between the table and Roy. "I'm really hungry."

"Go ahead," Roy said with a sigh. "Just remember your manners. And don't eat too much; I don't want to have to deal with you having a stomach ache or being sick."

"I won't!" Edward replied, darting away.

Roy hoped that 'I won't' was referring to eating too much, not remembering his manners.

Looking around at everyone in the hall, Roy sighed. There were a few girls around, but the majority of them were chasing after Claudio. He hardly knew anyone here apart from Edward and Tyrell, but they weren't exactly the type of company the Colonel was looking for.

He leant on the wall behind his back, surveying the scene with a slight amount of boredom.

He began to observe Edward, making sure the boy was behaving himself and not acting like an idiotic, egocentric prat.

Over by the food, Edward was trying to scope out what he deemed suitable to eat. _No, not that. Too many vegetables. Not that either. And I don't even _know _what that is…_

Eventually, he settled for something he recognised but had no idea what it was called - those sweet thingies on the stick, he said to Alphonse when he wanted them.

Reaching forward with his right arm, he picked one up by the stick and took a contented bite, quite pleased that there was no-one here to tell him off for eating dessert first.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Edward looked beside him at the person who'd spoken, a young woman of about eighteen. She had long black hair done up in fancy buns, and wore a peach coloured kimono with purple flower petals printed onto it.

"Yes?" Edward asked before taking another bite of those sweet thingies on the stick.

"I apologise for intruding," the girl said softly. "But I am very curious about your arm. Is it made of metal?"

Edward looked to his hand, tilting it ever-so-slightly and swallowing the food in his mouth. "Yeah. It is. It's called auto-mail."

"We don't have that here in Kambei," she said. After a little hesitation, she asked, "Why do you have it? Did something happen to your arm?"

"Yeah," Edward answered. "There was a war back in my country, you see, and that's how I lost my arm. My leg too."

The girl looked at him in curious awe. "So your leg is made of metal too?"

"Yup," Edward replied with a nod, giving his shin a sharp rap with his knuckles for emphasis. He took another bite of those sweet thingies on the stick.

"That must have been very sore," the girl commented. "Losing your limbs."

"Well, yeah." Edward swallowed again. "It was. And getting this auto-mail was no walk in the park either. The surgery you have to go through to have it put in really hurts, and it's painful learning how to walk again afterwards. But it's okay now. I'm fine."

The girl smiled. "Okay. Thank you for telling me. I was very interested. You will have to forgive me; I have never seen anything quite like this 'auto-mail' before."

"That's alright," Edward told her. "I don't mind."

She moved off.

Edward pulled another bun off the stick and chewed it happily, watching her go.

"How did you _really _lose your arm and leg?"

Edward jumped at the sound of Tyrell's voice. He glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, it's you."

"Yeah, it's me. And I'm _really _intrigued. I want to know why you're missing an arm and a leg," Tyrell said, munching on some kind of tiny, deep-fried roll.

"I just said it," Edward told him nonchalantly. "There was a war, and a couple of Ishbalans attacked my hometown, Resembool."

"That's the reason you give everyone," said Tyrell cautiously. "But that's not the _real _reason, is it?"

"Can't you tell? You're the one with the magical mind-reading powers." Edward wiggled his fingers in the air and waved around his food theatrically.

"No. I can't tell. That's why I'm so interested. I tried to read it when you were lying on the floor in the coach, but I couldn't. Your own mind was blocking it, not only from me but from yourself. You can't recall the time you lost your arm and leg without deliberately trying to, or when you see a strong reminder of then."

"That's it," Edward mumbled around his second helping of skewered sweets. "I don't like to talk about it. Or think about it. Or remember it."

"But would you tell me?" Tyrell asked, leaning back on the wall and watching Edward with curious violet eyes. "It's alright if you won't. I'll just drop it - the only way I find out is if you tell me. I can't read it off you, I can't search your head, not even hypnotising you would work. And if you don't want to tell me, I'll understand."

Edward lowered the food from his mouth, looking down. "Let's just say me and my brother did something we shouldn't have and this is how we paid for it. Can you accept that?"

"I'll accept anything," Tyrell said firmly. "And that was more than enough. You don't wanna talk about it, and I respect that. Lost limbs in the Ishbalan Rebellion it is."

Edward grinned, then took another bite of his sweet. "I like you. You're a good guy, y'know that? You should really try some of this stuff. It's good."

"It's called dango."

"Oh, okay. I've gone my whole life calling it 'those sweet thingies on the stick'."

"That sounds really wrong."

"Yeah. I only just realised."

The two started laughing.

Back on the other side of the hall, Roy's gaze had just lifted from the two teenagers and began to roam the hall.

"Hello there. Are you Colonel Mustang?" came a voice from his left.

Roy looked towards the source of the voice, mildly surprised. A young man stood there, his semblance to the Emperor indicating that it was highly likely this was his son. He wore a bright red kimono patterned with golden palm leaves and black hakama trousers, his haori black and gold.

"Yes, that's me. Colonel Roy Mustang, representing Amestris. At your service," Roy said, nodding politely.

"Good evening. I am Kenji Kambei, the Emperor's son."

Roy allowed himself to bask in the glory of his own skills of deduction. On the inside, of course.

"Good evening to you as well, sir," Roy returned.

"You Amestrians are a strange lot, do you know that?" Kenji said suddenly. "Every Amestrian soldier I've met calls me 'sir', whilst soldiers from Orato or Xing call me 'your majesty'."

"Would you prefer I called you that?"

"No, I don't mind. Personally, I'd prefer Kenji, but I get the feeling that you probably won't address me that way. I was just wondering why."

"Well, in Amestris, our equivalent of the Emperor is the Fuhrer, King Bradley. He's more or less the ruler of Amestris because he controls our state military, our army. All our soldiers address him as 'sir', so I suppose it just sticks. Most of us probably wouldn't see any reason to call you anything _but _'sir'."

"I see," Kenji responded. "Well anyway, the reason I came over here is because my father would like to speak to you and your son."

"Alright. I'll fetch him and then head over. Thanks for letting me know," said Roy.

Kenji nodded and headed across the room, waving to various people and smiling.

Roy made his way over to the left side of the hall, to the table bearing the food, keeping an eye out for the familiar flash of blonde - no, black - hair.

He came across the boy he was looking for pretty fast, his gaze landing on Edward's red clothes and Tyrell's orange.

He approached the two boys, not surprised to find them both stuffing their faces with the exotic foods Kambei offered.

"Hey, Roy!" Edward exclaimed, waving. "You should try this stuff. It's good!"

"It's 'dad' now, remember?" Roy hissed at the boy as he drew near enough, accepting some kind of sticky sweet on a skewer. "And I don't really care much for sweets."

"Aw, c'mon," Tyrell said with a pout. "It's really yummy."

Roy sighed and took a bun off the end, almost cringing at the overpowering flavour. "Ed, how can you eat this? Yuck, too sweet."

Edward reached out and reclaimed the food, finishing the rest of it. "How can you _not?_ It's delicious. You're just too much of a sourpuss, Colonel."

"Dad," Roy corrected again, glancing around the room.

"I told you, I'd rather dismantle my arm and leg then travel to Winry's and use the parts as confetti than call you that," Edward muttered. "I'm not saying it."

"You might have to," Roy informed the boy. "The Emperor wants to talk to us both."

"Huh? The head honcho dude?"

"Yes, although I wouldn't recommend you call him that to his face unless you want to end up having all your underpants set on fire."

"I feel so intimidated."

"Would you rather I burnt your research?"

"Let's go find his highness, the great Emperor of Kambei!"

"And if he mentions your height, I forbid you from reacting. If you blow up at him, you will suffer a slow and painful death involving Hughes and a large family photo album."

"What's there to mention about my height, bastard?"

"Shh. Pipe down. And remember; like a sophisticated officer's son."

The two Amestrians made their way through the crowd to a small gathering of people, all huddled about the Emperor and his son, Kenji.

The older man caught sight of the duo as the approached. "Ah, Colonel! Edward! I trust my son Kenji here got my message to you?"

"Yes, sir," Roy replied. "That he did."

Ryuumaru looked down at Edward, his brown eyes twinkling. "So this is young Edward! How are you, son?"

"I'm fine, thanks," Edward responded. "And yourself?"

"I'm doing well," Ryuumaru told him. "I'm getting a little old though - coming up on forty-eight years, now - but that's no odd thing!"

"Forty-eight?" Edward repeated. "No way. I wouldn't have put you a day over thirty-five!"

"Ahaha!" Ryuumaru grinned, his laugh loud and resounding. "Glad you think so, son!"

Edward shot Roy a glance, and the man nodded subtly. _Good job, Ed. Keep it up._

Ryuumaru motioned with a thumb at the table off to the side. "Say, I was wondering if you two would like to join the rest of us at the table for some food?"

"We would be honoured," Roy answered, dipping his head. "Lead the way, sir."

Roy and Edward followed Ryuumaru, along with Kenji and the rest of the group he'd been standing with and talking to, over to the long table on the right side of the hall.

It was only as the drew closer that Roy realised the table barely rose from the ground, and that one would have to sit on the floor to be able to make use of it.

The group sat down on small cushions around the table, talking and laughing. Roy conversed with a few girls - which he was quite happy about - and tried to remember the names of all the people he was being introduced to.

Edward didn't really care much for remembering names of people he'd probably never see again, simply speaking when spoken to and acting as politely as he could. Sure, Roy was as annoying as hell and deserved to have vengeance served upon him for all the jerky stuff he'd done, but not even Edward would stoop so low as to embarrass him at such an important event.

Also, he didn't think Roy was kidding when he'd threatened to set his research alight.

Eventually, food was delivered to the table (partially the courtesy of a fetching young woman with whom Roy had no quarrels flirting) and the chatter and laughter continued.

Edward's face brightened as he caught sight of dango in the midst of the food, but quickly fell as Roy slapped his wrist when he reached for it.

"Eat a proper meal, Edward," the man had scolded. "Up 'til now, the only thing I've seen you eating is sweets."

Edward obeyed begrudgingly, scowling and selecting more savoury foods from the variety of items spread before them.

The Emperor nodded to Roy, smiling.

It was only then that Roy realised what he'd just done was an example of good parenting.

All was going swimmingly up 'til…

"Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all. Please, feel free to ask for whatever food you like from the waitresses."

Prince Claudio sat down cross-legged next to Roy, fixing the Colonel with a cold glare which was carefully disguised as a normal glance.

Edward, on Roy's other side, slid a hand across to his knee and poked him, muttering, "No gloves."

Roy nodded disgruntledly, murmuring back, "I wasn't planning on it."

"Good evening, _Colonel Mustang,"_ Claudio said nonchalantly, looking his way once again.

"Good evening, _Prince Claudio,"_ Roy returned just as evenly. "Having a good time?"

"Yes, quite enjoyable," Claudio said conversationally. "In fact, I was just talking to a young girl who had been conversing with your son here. Her name was Umeko, if I recall. She mentioned that metal arm of his."

Edward shot a look at the prince, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah. I was talking to her."

"She said you lost your arm and leg during a war in Amestris. That wouldn't happen to have been the Eastern Rebellion, would it?"

"Yeah." Edward busied himself with examining the woodwork of the table they were seated at. "That's where it happened."

"You were involved in that war, weren't you, Mustang?" Claudio asked, his tone implying an innocent question.

"I was," the Colonel answered. "On the front lines. Bad war. But it's over now."

"Yes. I've heard the stories," Claudio pressed. "But was it really as bad as they say? I've heard that there were even Amestrians who abandoned their posts, it was so horrific."

Roy looked down. "Yeah, it wasn't pretty. A man I know opted out because he was sick of killing innocent people. Children. We were all glad when it was over and we could move on."

"Ah, but the greatest question of a soldier is 'does the war ever really end?', isn't that right?" Claudio brushed his hair out of his eyes. "After killing so many people, can someone ever really go back to the way they were?"

Edward frowned. He could see in Roy's eyes that the man just wanted this conversation over as quickly as possible, which was understandable, considering his last brush with the painful memories he associated with Ishbal.

But Claudio had no intentions to let go of this opportunity.

"And I imagine it must be especially hard for someone like you, Colonel, being a state alchemist. I've heard they were some of the most efficient killers."

"I don't like to talk about it," Roy said softly. Edward noticed his hands shaking under the table. "So I'd appreciate it if you could refrain from mentioning it."

"I understand. But I'm really curious; how does it feel, knowing that you were responsible for wiping out a whole nation?"

"Please, don't bring that up," Roy muttered, frowning and moving his hands closer to his waist.

"And how do you feel when you remember it? If you wake up in the morning, for instance, and it just pops into your head?" Claudio would not be deterred. "Doesn't it give you nightmares?"

Roy twitched his hand away from his gloves and up to his head, where he ran his fingers through his slick, black hair. He turned his head quickly, closing his eyes. "_Please, I _don't _want to _talk _about it."_

Edward was glowering at Claudio now, as if willing him to shut up with some psychic force. _If he doesn't put a sock in it soon…_

"But I really want to know," Claudio said, his gaze no longer hiding the hatred. "How does it feel, when you remember how many people's lives you took? Can you remember their faces, Colonel? What their screams sounded like? What was it like, after you'd just killed them? Did you even care at the time?"

"What part of 'stop talking' don't you get?" Edward said slowly, glaring. "He obviously doesn't like this topic."

Claudio's eyebrow rose the most minute fraction. "I can see that, boy. I just don't care. I could go on and on about this, and tell you all about the people your father has murdered, and how much of a ruthless killer he really is. Isn't that right, Mustang? Mr 'Hero of Ishbal'?"

Roy's hand moved up to his chest and he started to rub the area above his heart in a rhythmic, circular motion, eyes shut tight.

Edward's eyes widened. _No…_

Despite Roy's obvious discomfort, Claudio _continued_. To Edward's absolute disgust, he was having _fun_ watching Roy's pain.

"How many people did you murder, Colonel? Was it fun? Or do you want to take it all back? Even if you do, you can't. There is so much blood on your hands now, isn't there? You killed men, women and _children_. Little _children_, with their whole lives ahead of them. Are you—"

"Please, excuse me. I need some air," Roy muttered quietly, standing and making his way to the door at a brisk pace.

"Is he running away?" Claudio said with an incredulous smirk. "Is he really that—"

"Shut it!" Edward snapped, slamming his palms down on the table, unable to stay silent anymore. "Can't you see what you've done to him?! This is happening again! And it's all _your_ stupid fault!"

Not caring that everyone at the table was now staring at him, Edward gave Claudio one last glare before jumping to his feet. He bowed stiffly to the Emperor and excused himself in a voice steeped with rage and anxiety. The boy turned and ran after Roy, his shoes clacking loudly on the tiled floor.

He pelted into the corridor, looking left and right. He hadn't been here before. He could see the escorts waiting a little way down to the right. Figuring Roy would want to avoid all contact with other people, Edward turned left.

He turned again, spotting the man standing in the bend of a corridor, his head in his hands as he paced back and forth.

"Roy!" Edward exclaimed, darting forward.

The man snapped his head in Edward's direction, barking, "Go away! I can handle this myself!"

Roy's face was red and beaded with sweat, just like it had been last time. His bare hands tensed and loosened at his side and his chest was heaving as he fought for breath.

Edward's brow creased and he took a step forward. "It's only me, Roy. It's Ed."

Roy, his breathing laboured, looked at the boy for a moment longer before walking towards the wall and leaning back on it, sliding down with a moan until he was sitting on the ground with his head between his knees. "Help."

Edward dashed forward at the sound of that one word, a word which hardly ever came from Roy's mouth. A word which shouldn't come from him. _Couldn't. _Not aimed towards Edward, in the least.

Standing before the man, he stopped.

Roy looked up with glassy eyes, his gaze locking with Edward's. He looked terrified; that same look Edward had seen on the coach that had scared him to the core himself.

"Please…" he panted. "Help me. 'M scared."

Edward watched him put his head back on his knees and then sat down on the floor in front of the man. The only thing he managed to say was, "It's okay. I'm here. I'll help you. You just have to breathe."

Roy didn't look up as Edward slid himself around to his superior's right side and pressed against him gently. "Slow down," Edward said, reaching forward and to the left to place his warm hand on Roy's knee. "There's nothing here that can hurt you. It's only us. Just have a couple of minutes to breathe."

Roy nodded faintly, taking a deep, shuddering breath. His hands clenched and unclenched next to Edward's, and the boy gently touched them. "Stop that. You're getting worked up again."

The younger alchemist gave his superior a couple of minutes to even out his breathing. Eventually, he asked, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Roy admitted quietly, his answer muffled by his knees. "I don't know. I just… I thought of something bad… It scared me…again. I don't know what's wrong with me. I was scared. I was _scared_. I thought I… I thought…"

Roy lifted his head again, looking dully at Edward. "I thought I was going to die again. I had another panic attack, didn't I?"

"I think so," Edward told him.

Roy leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. "What is wrong with me?" he growled. "Why is this happening?"

There was a rapid tapping noise as someone came sprinting down the corridor. Or rather, someone-_s_.

It was Tyrell, closely followed by Inuya and Usagi. The shaman was clutching his side, bent double.

"Came…fast…as could…! Couldn't…find…you…" He glanced up, his chest heaving. Looking at the two Amestrians sitting there, he gathered enough breath to say, "I guess you handled it, then."

Roy looked at the shaman, his eyes pleading. "It happened again. Why? What's wrong with me?"

Tyrell strode forward, kneeling down in front of the man. Placing a hand on his forehead, he said, "Inuya, Usagi, fetch me some cold water and a cloth. Quick!"

"Yes!" The two escorts ran from the corridor.

Tyrell moved his hand to Roy's chest, checking his heart rate. It must have been about normal as the shaman moved on to take Roy's hands and examine them.

"Nail marks," he commented. "From where you dug your fingers in."

Roy closed his eyes again, sighing heavily. "Why…? Why did it happen?"

"It may be that you've developed panic disorder," Tyrell murmured.

"No," said Roy firmly. "That's not it. That _can't_ be it, okay? I have things to do and people relying on me. That just can't happen. I can't be so useless. I can't afford to depend on others."

Edward, still pressed against Roy's side and clasping his hand, nodded. "That's right. It's gotta be just a one off thing, y'know? Because of everything that's happened… Old Ishbal… The Emperor… The pressure must have gotten to you."

Edward felt Roy start to tremble against his side.

The three were silent now, Tyrell looking at Roy, who was looking at the floor with a distraught expression, and Edward looking away down the corridor.

"Tyrell!" A shout echoed down to them. It was Inuya, running closer with a bowl of water in his hands. Usagi trotted along behind him with a worried expression on her face, clutching a little cloth to her chest.

"Thank you," Tyrell murmured, accepting the bowl from the escort. Usagi, blushing, handed him the cloth and he plunged it into the water.

Edward reached across and placed his metal palm on Roy's forehead, saying, "There. Cold metal while you wait."

Tyrell wrung out the cloth, nudging Edward's hand aside. The boy let out a noise of defiance, but lowered his right arm nonetheless.

Roy set his chin down on his knees, sitting back and letting Tyrell dab the cool, damp cloth on his hot forehead.

"I'm sorry."

Everyone looked at Roy, who muttered again, "I'm sorry."

"'Sorry'?" Edward echoed. "What do you mean, 'sorry'?"

"Sorry for dragging you into this. All of you," Roy muttered, still watching the opposite wall.

"Into what?" Inuya asked, a frown twisting his features.

"My stupid problems," Roy grumbled, taking the cloth from Tyrell and covering his eyes with it. "I'm pathetic. Sitting here whilst the four of you sort me out. Two kids and a couple of young foreigners I barely know. It's not that I don't appreciate your help, but…"

Roy's eyes twitched up to meet the group's, and he let out another sigh. "I shouldn't have to need it."

"'Shouldn't have to'…?" Inuya trailed off, watching from his kneeling position as Roy rose to his feet, handing him the cloth.

"It's a long and complicated thing," Roy told him bluntly, stepping into the centre of the hallway and giving his wrists a quick shake. "I'm going back to my room. Tell the Emperor I send my apologies for retiring early."

"Will do," Inuya replied distractedly, watching Roy make his way down the corridor.

"Are you sure you don't want any help?" Tyrell asked, his expression concerned.

"I'm fine," Roy answered. "You just go back and have fun with those sweets."

"But—"

"I'll be _fine_," Roy repeated stubbornly, his face unreadable.

"Tell the Emperor I'm going with Muhy…y father," Edward added to Inuya, standing and following. "If that's not any trouble."

"Not at all," Inuya responded, still a little dazed. "Go ahead."

Tyrell gave Edward a subtle nod, flashing him a relieved smile.

Edward then sped up his pace a little and caught up to Roy, watching the man's face curiously.

"You don't have to come," Roy told him. "You don't need to."

"My hand was on your wrist, Mustang," Edward said slowly.

"Your point being?"

"Tyrell isn't the only one who knows how fast your heart is still beating."

* * *

**So, we see Ed being protective of Roy here. Geez, I think I've invented a new genre. By once again backflipping the stereotypes, I give you…Parental!EdRoy! Ha, no.**

**No.**

**But my view of Parental!RoyEd is that they would both look after each other (because they're both idiots) instead of the usual Roy taking care of a poor little Ed (for proof, I flipped Sick!Ed/Parental!Roy on it's head)…although I can't say that's not cute.**

**ZAKURO AWAY! *rainbows off to catch an Eevee***

**(P. S., If you guys like my stuff and have nothing better to do, PLEASE read and review my story 'Pack Animals'. I'm pretty bummed by the lack of reviews it got, because I thought it was pretty darn awesome. Although, if you've already read 'All is One', don't bother because that's where I took it out of. It was so long I gave it it's own story.)**

**ZAKURO DEFINITELY AWAY NOW!**

**Trololololololololololol.**

**YUP, REALLY GONE AT THIS POINT. BYE. NOT MY PROBLEM. WALKING—er, FLYING AWAY. SEEYA.**


	9. Of Bad Dreams and Brofists

**Hello rushed update not much time so much wanna tell you reference winner random quest special mentions to prettygal2426 who gave us the entire synopsis of the movie and the scene it was in it was 'The Avengers' gold star to both me so generous apologies for any typos please notify me!**

***GASPS***

**Here's…the next reference…before I pass out…:**

"**I'm telling you this because you **_**think **_**you get it, which isn't the same as **_**actually **_**getting it, get it?"**

**Please, get that. (Lol, pun!) If no-one does, I'll just be embarrassed. (Clue; poular anime.) Allons y! To the story!**

* * *

_**Of Bad Dreams and Brofists**_

After Roy and Edward had reached their quarters, the older of the two had quickly changed into something more comfortable - a white shirt and casual trousers - and settled himself on the couch to sleep.

Edward didn't bother to ask why he didn't go to his actual _bed_ instead of the couch, just changing out of his Kambeian clothing into his usual black trousers and singlet, which he had brought with him in the bottom of his suitcase.

He then yawned toothily, smacking his lips and realising how late it was out. Fixing up the stacks of books a bit more and giving the room a general tidy-up, Edward managed to tire himself out a little more before moving off to the bedroom to sleep. He tossed his trousers back into his case, undid his hair and flopped onto the giant squishy pillow.

Settling down, he tried to sleep for around twenty minutes before figuring that he couldn't. Knowing his habits around this matter, Edward drew the conclusion that if he was going to fall asleep it would have happened already.

Something was keeping him up.

Irritated, the boy rolled over a few times before standing up and lugging his bed down the short corridor and dumped it on the vacant couch.

He wrapped himself up in it and let out a contented murmur before drifting off.

* * *

_Have you forsaken us?_

Edward looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was standing in the living room of his old home in Resembool, a room that smelled slightly of stewed beef and smoke, where a carpet fuffed up between his feet and a cold breeze out of the fireplace sent goosebumps up his arms.

_Feet. Arms. He was whole._

Edward inspected himself - here stood a small boy, all limbs intact and capable of sensation, with tufty blonde hair that ended in roughly trimmed points half-way down his neck.

He had been stripped of his height and lean muscle, his fighter's physique replaced by the softer flesh of a child and the previous power behind his blows gone.

Edward glanced about the room and noticed a boy standing opposite him.

It was Alphonse Elric, aged about nine or ten, still bearing slightly chubby cheeks and fluffy blonde-brown hair parted to one side. He looked the same as ever; polite, innocent and sweet, ready to go and play as boys his age often did.

Edward opened his mouth, but Alphonse got there ahead of him.

"Ready to go, _big brother?"_ He narrowed his eyes. "That _is_ who you are, _isn't it?_ Or are we even related? You don't _have_ any brothers, so who am I?"

"Al—" Edward began, but was cut off.

"Boys, it's time to go do the shopping!"

Edward's heart nearly stopped.

Trisha Elric popped her head around the doorframe and into the room, smiling. Her expression became one of sudden realisation.

"Oh, silly me. I keep forgetting. I'm not your mother, am I Edward?" She smiled again, but it was forced this time. "I only have one son."

She and Alphonse made their way down the corridor towards the kitchen, Edward running along behind. "No! Wait! Mom, Al! I _am—"_

_Click._ The front door creaked open slowly, and Edward squinted against the sudden rush of light that came flooding in. He could make out the silhouette of a tall, broad-shouldered figure in the doorway, but the face was cast into shadow.

"And I'm not your father either, am I?" the figure rumbled. "No. You're not part of this family."

"Hold on!" Edward called out. "I am! You _are_ my family!"

_"I'm Edward Mustang, fifteen years old. My father is Roy Mustang, and my mother is Elizabeth Mustang, who passed away when I was young. I have no siblings."_

"From your own mouth, Edward," Alphonse said pointedly, all traces of 'sweet little brother' gone. "You denied us all."

"That wasn't real!" Edward protested. "That was for a mission! I was undercover!"

"You're not my son," Trisha said, not even trying to smile. "You don't belong here. Scat, you scoundrel."

The figure in the doorway murmured in agreement, opening the door a little wider. "One son we could handle. Come on, Trisha, Alphonse. Let's go to the markets. I'm staying here with you."

"Alright, dear," Trisha replied. "Come along, Alphonse. Don't let that strange child fill your head with lies like human transmutation." Turning to the man in the doorway, she added, "I feel like I would waste away without you, dear. As if I would die waiting for you to return if you did leave us."

The three exited the house, leaving Edward alone in darkness.

The little boy sat down on the floor, closing his eyes and hugging his knees.

_Maybe… If there was only one of us, dad would have stayed. And them mom wouldn't have gotten sick, and I wouldn't have gotten Al to do that transmutation. Perhaps…_

He looked up at the doorway again, a soft tear rolling down his cheek. _Perhaps our family would have been better off I wasn't a part of it._

An ominous feeling washed over Edward, making him shudder. The room turned abruptly cold, and he started to shiver uncontrollably. A hand of ice trailed over his shoulder, cold and sharp, spreading like a veins of a deadly snowflake.

His body became weaker all at once, pain stabbed at his right shoulder and left leg. Freezing numbness invaded his being, spreading from the sources of the pain and holding him tightly.

He looked at it.

_Bad idea._

The hand was almost all bone, held together by strings of pale, shredded skin and thin ligaments, crusted with dried blood. Edward gulped, his throat tightening.

Hot, moist breath blew on his neck, making fine hair rise all over his body and his own breathing quicken.

"Edward," a sing-song voice rasped from behind him, making his blood run cold. "Look here, Edward."

Despite knowing he would most definitely regret obeying whatever creature this hand belonged to, Edward turned slowly, his pupils dilating as he caught sight of what stood there.

"You… You're the…" His voice died, and he tried again, "You're the failed human transmutation."

The creature, reaching for Edward's face from it's sprawled position, grinned. "That's right, Ed. _I'm_ your _real_ family. It's what you deserve; to live with the outcasts, mutilated and cursed, and all those who failed to be human."

Slowly, more creatures emerged from behind this one; a baby with bulging masses of flesh attached where there shouldn't be, a girl who was naught but a mere skeleton with flowing brown hair, and a half-human, half-canine chimera whom the boy recognised instantly. More flooded out, each one just as horrendous and deformed as the one before. They reached for the boy's face, brushing his cheeks with bony hands and leaving blood smeared all over his body.

"I am your mother," said the original monster. "Aren't I?"

"You're my big brother," rumbled the chimera. "Aren't you?"

"We're your _real_ family, you inhuman failure," they said in unnerving unison. "Aren't we?"

To Edward's horror, the skin on the ends of his fingers started to tingle and become pale - blood wasn't reaching it anymore. His arm was dying.

Painfully, the same process started up in his foot and he caught sight of white, vein-laced skin below the fabric of his shorts.

He tried to close his eyes, but _the thing _placed it's hand on his face and forced him to watch.

"Look, Ed," it rasped. "First, we'll take back the limbs you owe us…"

Edward let out a choking sob of terror as the tingling started up in his right leg, in the fingers of his left arm.

"…and then we'll take the rest of you, to punish you for everything you've done that has gone without being justified."

Edward, wheezing at this stage as the cramping, _suffocating _sensation reached his chest, let out a scream and collapsed.

* * *

Roy opened his eyes on oppressive darkness, unable to tell where anything was. He could feel hands touching him, tapping his back, shaking his shoulders gently and gripping his chin. One amongst them was cold and hard, like metal, and two more had the texture of leather.

Familiar voices echoed about the bleak darkness, coming from all directions and confusing him severely.

"Colonel? Colonel Mustang, sir?"

"Boss? Hey, boss? Hello?"

"Colonel Bastard? Are you in there?"

"Mister Mustang? Can you see us?"

"Roy? Heylo, Earth calling Roy!"

Moving his hand to his forehead, Roy felt the rough, yet smooth texture of reactive cloth brush his skin. He was wearing his ignition gloves…so why couldn't he see them? Was he blind?

Roy flinched away at the touch of cold metal on his cheek, anticipating a weapon, knife, gun or otherwise. Instead, that hand touched him again on the forehead lightly.

_Auto-mail? Is that…Edward?_

"Hey, Colonel Bastard. Why don't you respond? Can you not see us or something? Are you blind?"

Roy tried to speak, tried to say something, but couldn't. His words were sealed and he couldn't talk.

He was powerless here.

He gave up, sitting back and letting the inquisitive hands roam his face, back and shoulders, sighing depressedly as it dawned on him that he was unable to do _anything_ here.

He listened to the individual voices, distinguishing the differences between them and deducing who was surrounding him. _Edward is here… Alphonse too. Lieutenant Hawkeye, Hughes and Havoc, Breda, Fuery and Falman… Is that even…? Gracia and Elysia? And that nice girl who works at the front desk? Everyone's here…_

Suddenly there was an almighty explosion, throwing him to the side and sending him skidding across some kind of hard, jagged flooring until he came to a halt. His shoulder burned. He could hear the sounds of people struggling to their feet all about him, and then the sound of distant gunfire joined the ringing in his ears. _War?_

Struggling to his feet, he struggled to pinpoint exactly what was going on when a firm hand gripped his shoulder and pulled him away.

"Hey! Let go!" he protested, lips finally free, wrenching his body from side to side futilely.

"Enough, Roy!" snapped his captor, - Hughes, Roy realised - pushing him down into a sitting position, his back against what felt like packed earth.

"We need to get you out of here! You're obviously blind or something, you can't help at all here. Just get somewhere safe and let us handle this."

"How many of you are there?" Roy asked pleadingly, desperate to help somehow.

"Not many. A hundred at most."

"And how many enemies?"

"…A few more than ten thousand. But we have to hold our ground; that's our orders."

Roy was about to shout out that that was the most preposterous order he'd ever heard, a suicide mission to the end, when Hughes called out, "Elric! Behind you!"

A blare of gunfire.

"Edward!"

"Big brother! NO!"

And then he was allowed to see in his mind's eye, a shadowy figure with a pistol aimed at Edward's back.

The boy turned, _so slowly, _he saw, _so slowly,_ he fell, _so slowly, _and he died.

_So slowly._

And then, in vision rimmed with fuzzy black, he saw the killer.

Himself, a twisted smirk on his face and his black eyes cold and merciless. His clothes were clean and he didn't even seem to give a damn about who he'd just killed.

And then it faded.

Roy looked helplessly in the direction of Hughes's voice, begging him, "Please let me fight! I can flame them! Anyone! Just let me fight them!"

"Dammit, Roy! How the hell will you know where to fire if you can't see? You'll only end up hitting your own. Just let it go!"

Roy bared his teeth in a frustrated snarl, slamming a fist into his knee. _How did this happen? Why am I so useless? Everyone I know is out there fighting and dying and I'm stuck here…_

A close shot sounded and there was a thump as Hughes fell.

"No!" Roy shouted, looking around and wishing for his sight back. "Please, no!"

"Too late for that now."

Roy recognised his own voice before felt pain flare in his chest and then he was down as well. He didn't feel anything now; he knew what it felt like to be shot, but not killed.

Just as he was about to drift off into some form of what might be called sleep, the ground - whatever terrain it might have been - was jerked out from underneath him and he fell, clutching at anything and everything to try and halt his fall.

Then he was falling, just _falling,_ down into an abyss that didn't appear to have a start or an end, blind.

He let out a shout, but nothing changed. He simply continued his descent to nowhere, on and on, trapped in a realm of constance and complacency.

Where everything stayed the same.

And he had no effect on anything.

Useless.

He closed his eyes.

* * *

Roy flicked awake, winded, and rubbed his head drowsily. Cringing at his sudden, dizzying shift from dreams into reality, he laid a hand on his chest and felt his heart pounding with the force of some great drum.

Feeling slightly feverish, he sleepily undid the buttons on his shirt to cool himself down a little, yawning quietly as he did so.

A sharp cry of pure terror set him on high alert.

Glancing across the darkened room, Roy caught sight of Edward's shadowy figure on the couch opposite. The boy was shaking, panting and touching his hands to his face and shoulders fretfully with his eyes wide and unfocused.

"No… No way… I shouldn't…shouldn't think that way…" the boy muttered, searching the room frantically. "I wouldn't… They wouldn't… Al? No. Mustn't think…like that…"

His gaze locked with Roy's.

"Monster!" he shouted suddenly, his alchemy briefly illuminating the room as he transmuted his auto-mail into a blade. "Get away!"

His eyes were wild and unfocused, his terrified expression creating the illusion that he was just your average child scared of the monster hiding under the bed.

Roy was momentarily stunned, blinking as he pushed himself up and tried to gather his wits. "Hm? Edward, it's only me."

"Only—" Edward dropped his arms heavily, letting out a trembling breath of relief. "Only you."

Roy sat up and looked curiously at the boy. "Are you quite alright, Ed?"

"Am I…?" Edward transmuted his arm back to it's original from, gripping his head and running his hands through limp black hair. "'M I al…right…?"

"That's what I asked," Roy muttered, cocking his head in cautious puzzlement. "Are you?"

"Y-yeah." Edward's chest heaved a few times as he caught his breath. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm okay. All good."

"A nightmare?" Roy asked. "Is that what?"

Edward allowed himself a few seconds to compose himself before responding, "Yeah. Just a nightmare. I'm okay."

Roy watched the boy calm himself down, brushing his hands through his hair and running checks on his auto-mail systematically, gradually soothing himself.

"Odd," Roy murmured.

"What's odd?" Edward asked shakily, examining his metal shin.

"I just had a bit of a…strange dream myself," Roy admitted. "A little freaky."

"So you had a nightmare as well then?" Edward asked quietly, falling still.

"Guess you could say that," Roy replied.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Roy silently catching his breath and Edward twitching each of his metal toes in turn.

"We're two of a kind, huh?" Roy's quiet statement fell away into the darkness.

"Guess we are."

More silence ensued, during which Roy's heart gave an especially loud _thump_ before ceasing to be heard above a normal volume.

"Mn." He gave his chest a quick rub and said, "What did you dream?"

"I'll only tell if you will. Equivalent exchange."

"Alright. You first."

"But how do I know you'll tell me yours after?"

Roy smirked in the darkness. "You'll just have to trust me there."

Edward was quiet, and Roy could picture his sceptical expression. Eventually…

"The world is coming to an end. I'm trusting you."

Roy smirked again, only this time out of a sad kind reflection than the usual mockery. _Do I really seem so unreliable to you, Edward…?_

"I was back home, in Resembool, our house before we burned it down. I was in the living room with Alphonse, and he said we couldn't really be brothers. Then…" Roy caught a sharp intake of breath. "Then mom came in, asking for us. No, for _Al._ Then she said I wasn't really her son. They left, but I chased them. To the door. Where _he_ was waiting. Our dad. He told me I wasn't part of their family, and that he was going to stay with mom and Al. He said one son he could handle, and they left. And I thought that maybe…maybe my family would be a lot happier if they weren't…" He stopped.

"Weren't what?" Roy prompted.

"If they weren't my family."

Roy looked across at the boy, slightly shaken.

"Think about it; if dad _had_ stayed, then mom wouldnt've got sick 'n'…I wouldnt've dragged Al into this mess. It all might've turned out better for them."

"Ed…" Roy began, not quite sure of what to say next.

"But that's not the end of it," Edward continued. "I was there in the darkness when…_it_…grabbed hold of my shoulder."

"'It'?" Roy repeated.

"Our failed transmutation," Edward elaborated darkly. "That monsterous thing we created that was supposed to be…our mother."

Roy heard a clank - he supposed Edward must have clenched his fists. He couldn't imagine the terror Edward must have felt after seeing the monster of his life again.

"And a whole bunch of other beasts. The chimera that Shou Tucker made…from Nina and her dog. A baby and a boy… All of them mutilated in some way. Twisted, like we did to our mother. I…" Edward broke off, his voice getting shaky again. "I thought up those things, Roy… All of them in my head… Half of 'em I've never seen, so they must all have…" He swallowed nervously. "Those things came from _my_ imagination."

"That's okay then, Ed," Roy said. "If you only imagined them, then what's the problem?"

"If I imagined them…" Edward whispered. "Does that mean I could be capable of creating those beasts? I mean…I did make one of them…so what's to say I couldn't make them all…?"

Roy frowned concernedly, moving his hand down to his side after undoing the last button.

"Can you describe it to me?" the man asked softly. "Your failed transmutation? All those other things?"

"No. I just…can't. It's too…" Edward shook his head. "Can't."

"You could try," Roy put in. "Even a few vague words would do. I saw the blood on the floor of your basement, I want to know what made that."

Edward took a steadying breath. "Sure you wanna know? About _it?_ And all those things?"

"I've seen and heard enough messed up nonsense to fill a lifetime. What's a few more on the list?" Roy said. "And besides, you'll feel better if you tell someone what you saw. Just get it off your chest. You're one of the few people who saw that thing; I get the feeling you wouldn't talk to Alphonse about it and Ms Pinako Rockbell is far out of the question, for quite a few reasons judging on your way of thinking. So take it out on me; I can handle it."

"Well." Edward hesitated again. "I can try and tell you, but I get the feeling I'll either give you a really crap description or stop halfway."

"That's good enough for me," Roy assured him.

Edward's eyes reflected a small amount of moonlight from the window as his head turned to face in Roy's direction. Quietly but firmly, he said, "It was horrible. Arms and legs all distended and oversized, splayed on it's back with all it's guts hanging out. Blood everywhere. Wheezing, coughing it up. It's face was like a monster, messed up teeth and a twisted jaw. And it's eyes…"

Edward shuddered and halted before continuing. "They were round, deep, holes in her face and they shone eerily out of her like torches. They weren't the eyes of a human. They were terrifying. It was so quiet, but so loud. I could hear it _breathing,_ see it convulsing and spraying blood everywhere.

"And the worst thing was, I couldn't find Alphonse. His clothes were there on the floor, crumpled and empty, and I couldn't see him anywhere. I was all alone with a monster. Then I had to pull him back. I only had one leg now, and I was crawling on the ground. _On the ground where _it _was._ And it _hurt._ I grabbed the armour and I drew up that rune, screaming and shouting the whole time and then my arm was gone too and I…"

Edward, panting now, stared emptily at his hands and said, "I told him not to look but he didn't listen. He turned that helmet, he saw her, and we both cursed ourselves for being so stupid and thinking we could have done something like bring someone back from the dead."

There was a dull _fwump_ as Edward collapsed backward onto the sofa and gave a quivering sigh. "And he ran me to Granny's, where we gave her and Winry and heart attacks. I don't really remember much about that part. Then you rocked up with the Lieutenant and…I've said a lot more than I meant to."

Roy looked in the boy's direction again, his face strangely unemotional. "That's fine by me. All I wanted to know about that."

"The rest of them were almost as bad," Edward said softly. "A baby that had been marred beyond recognition. A boy with no eyes soaked in blood. A dead girl with living hair and something so distorted and disfigured that I couldn't even tell whether it was human or an animal."

Edward stopped clamped a hand on his mouth for a minute as if he were going to be sick and then whispered, "And they all reached for me. They said I was an inhuman failure. One of them. That _they_ were my family." Weakly, he finished, "And then they started to take my limbs again, but not away. They _killed _them. They were turning me into one of them. _My body was being transformed to match theirs_."

Roy frowned. _Such things in the head of a boy so young,_ he thought sadly. _It's not right. He shouldn't be tortured by things like that._

Edward gave his head a quick shake, saying, "I thought once, ages ago, that I shouldn't have been born. I wanted to go back in time and kill myself because of how much better off Al and mom would be if it weren't for me. I hated myself."

He paused momentarily before he kept talking, "But then I realised that I didn't want that. Alphonse loves me, mom loved me. Even if I hadn't ever existed, dad probably would have left anyway, and mom still would have gotten sick. And then Alphonse would have no family left at all. And I know that's the worst feeling ever, being totally alone, even though my experience was so brief."

Clenching his fists again, Edward went on with his eyes burning like hot coals. "I decided I didn't want him to feel that, especially not for a lifetime. I'd rather he have me and be in that body than be all by himself in flesh and bone. I want to look after him, and I want to be his brother. I want to be Edward Elric, the brother of Alphonse Elric and the son of Trisha Elric. Hell, I even want to be the son of goddamn Hoenheim! I want to exist and I want to help people.

"I sometimes wonder if that's possible, and if we ever do any good, but I have to keep thinking 'there's always tomorrow'. I guess after all this time, that one thought just resurfaced."

Roy smiled. _He's so strong. And wise, in his own way._

"And now I'm going back to sleep, because I know you're going to break your word and not tell me your dream."

Edward rolled over and closed his eyes, leaving his bare back to Roy.

"Hmf." The man closed his eyes as well, almost offended, but too tired and stirred to care.

A gentle silence gripped the room for a moment, filling the atmosphere with warm tension.

"I dreamt I was blind," Roy murmured.

Edward gave a start. He obviously hadn't been expecting Roy to go through with their deal.

"I could hear everyone around me, all my men, Hughes, you and your brother, Elysia and Gracia even. I could feel you touching me, fussing over me, but I couldn't talk."

Edward glanced over curiously. "Going blind? That's what you're scared of?"

"Amongst a couple of things, yeah," Roy admitted quietly. "That's a prospect I wouldn't really like to have become reality. After that, there was this huge explosion and we blasted into a war. I could hear people screaming and guns firing, and before I knew it, people were getting killed. But I couldn't do anything, Hughes wouldn't let me. I felt so useless. Then they shot us both, and then I was just falling down this dark hole. Cliché, huh? And I couldn't do anything about it. Falling blind and helpless."

Roy placed his head in his hands. "I _hate_ that! Can't stand it! There's just…no worse feeling."

Roy noticed Edward looking at him ponderously.

"I always wondered… Why do you always react that way? When someone says you're useless, you take it personally and then overreact and look like you're having some kind of identity crisis," the boy said.

Roy flashed another mirthless smirk. "I suppose it must look like that. It's just that to me…you can't get much lower than having no effect on anything…being totally and utterly helpless…unable to help those closest to you."

"I can understand that," the younger of the two replied solemnly.

Silence.

"There's one more thing," Roy admitted quietly.

"What's that?"

"It was me," he whispered. "_I _killed everyone. _I _was the enemy."

Edward kept looking at the ceiling. "There were two of you?"

"I killed you too," Roy murmured. "Then Hughes, then myself. Fitting, huh? I'm the death of all of you. I'm my own downfall."

"Wrong," Edward said firmly. "You're bringing them _up, _aren't you? You're not bringing anyone down now. If you even think about it that way, I'm gonna beat your ass 'til you start thinking right again. All those people in your platoon, they follow you because they know what you can do for them. _I _know what you can do for them. For _everyone."_

He added, "And for me."

Roy closed his eyes and considered this.

Suddenly, Edward stood up, walked over and held out his tightly balled auto-mail fist over the table, looking Roy in the eye.

"What? You wanna punch me?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "No, stupid. You bump it with your own fist. It's what you do. It means, 'I trust you'."

Roy reached out and nudged Edward's waiting fist with his own, smirking. "I'll never understand those weird things teenagers do nowadays. When I was a kid, we just broke stuff and threw things at each other."

"Old man," Edward joked, moving back to his bed.

"Ignorant brat," Roy retorted, settling down.

'Goodnight' was the word that hovered in the air between the two, even though they hadn't spoken it.

* * *

**AAAHH! IT'S HORROR! I scared myself with Ed's dream…**

**I have found the **_**perfect **_**song. For everything. Ed and Al, Hughes and Elysia, Roy and Riza, my own original story.**

**Demons by Imagine Dragons. Bloody brilliant. If you haven't heard it, go listen. I can nearly guarantee it'll make you think of the Royai pairing.**

**And I finally got the next volume of FMAB (I've read the manga and seen the original anime already, but not all of Brotherhood. Heh.) and I'm up to the bit where Roy loans that 520 cens to Ed. I laughed so hard because Ed basically ran up there and mugged the Colonel!**

**Gosh, that was so funny.**

**(To anyone who's read '444 I'm Not Allowed to do in Amestris' by Do A Barrel Roll) And then when Ling attacked Father, my sister and I both yelled, 'Go, Ling! Use slash! Ling Ling Li Ling!'**

**Goodbye! So long! See you next time! For chapter the next one - **_**Of Tigers and Teddy Bears!**_

**REEEEEEEEVEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!1! (Spellcheck doesn't know **_**what **_**to make of that…)**


	10. Of Tigers and Teddy Bears

**Hello! I'm back!**

**None of you noticed, but I was in such a rush I neglected to rainbow away last chapter! So I just sat here and watched you read, psychically willing you to review. ):D**

**I tried to do more research on Claudio, but my searches remain fruitless. And so **_**he**_ **will remain a jerk and be whatever character type I write because I don't know what he's really like.**

**Only one person got the reference last time; it was Naruto, when Kakashi is explaining the hidden meanings to Naruto whilst he is hanging upside down from a tree. Winner; FullmetalAlchemist64! GOLD STAR!**

**Reference: **

"**That wasn't very nice...I do believe you killed my hat."**

* * *

_**Of Tigers and Teddy Bears**_

_Knock-knock-knock!_

"Ffmmph!" Roy jolted upright, glancing around.

Weak sunlight filtered through the window into the room, capturing motes of dust in golden hues. It perfectly matched the original shade of hair that the boy who slumbered on across the room from the Colonel possessed.

Edward, now with black hair, was still asleep.

_Knock-knock-knock!_

Puzzled, Roy glanced at the door and rose clumsily to his feet, rubbing smooth his messy bed head and heading towards it.

"Whoever this is better have a _damn_ good reason for waking me up," he grumbled under his breath, grabbing the doorknob and twisting open the door. "I am _not_ a morning person…"

"Hello, how can I…" he pulled open the door and stopped dead, blinking like a rabbit caught in the headlights. "…assist you…?"

Before him stood a group of about five or six young women, wearing the same white uniform with red trim. They carried several small wooden boxes between them and all looked tidy and petit.

Each one of them stared at him for several seconds before bright red blushes spread across their faces and they were deathly silent.

It took Roy a few seconds to realise his shirt still wasn't done up.

"Um, w-we're Kin Palace's Medical Services, and we ah, we were sent here so _we_ can assist _you,"_ the girl in front said in a faint voice, her cheeks burning red. "O-one of the escorts said you might need it…"

Roy looked back into the room, saw Edward sleeping on and took his opportunity.

Moving his attention back to the girls, he smiled charmingly and said, "That's all well and good, but my son Edward is still asleep on the sofa, and I wouldn't want to wake him up after all the excitement last night."

Closing his eyes and tilting his head ever-so-slightly, Roy put on a soft, caring expression and murmured gently, "He needs his sleep. I take it upon myself to look after that boy as best I can, and he does need a lot of rest."

One of the girls let out a quiet squeak and several more made crooning noises. They were wrapped around his little finger now.

Roy smirked on the inside, keeping up his façade and watching the girls' reactions. _Now, time to bring out the heavy artillery…_

He flinched suddenly, twitching a hand to his chest and rubbing it softly. Wincing, he waved away the aid of one of the girls and leant a little on the doorframe. "I'm okay. Nothing I can't handle. Just a little sore."

The nurses watched him, ensnared in his act, as he let out a little noise of discomfort and looked back to Edward.

"And besides," he added. "I have to watch over him. I don't want him to worry about me."

Roy heard several soft 'aww's and murmurs from the group and thought to himself, _No girl can resist a man who tries to be strong and still puts others before himself, even when he clearly is the one who needs help. And I would imagine this strategy should work even better on nurses…_

The head girl - Chika, as the badge on her chest read - nodded a couple of times and said, "I understand that you don't want to disturb your son, but if I am correct, there is a double bedroom in these quarters. If you like, we can check your health in there."

Roy smiled again, with as much of his charismatic allure as possible. "I'd appreciate that very much. Please, go ahead." _Target accomplished._

The women tiptoed through the living room, past Edward's sleeping form and down the corridor. They nearly hustled Roy into the room before settling him on the bed and beginning to check him over.

Looking around, Roy counted six girls in total, a group which consisted of Chika; a young woman with long, brown hair, Rina; a nurse with black hair done in buns, Haruka; a bubbly blonde, Mizu; the apparent youngest of them with blue-black bangs, Natsuko; a strong-willed red-head and Miiko; a quiet nurse with long, _long_ silver hair.

Quite happily, Roy removed his shirt fully so they could measure his heart rate and talked to them as they ran tests on him.

"So, are you married, Mr Mustang?" Haruka asked, sitting on the bed, and moving the stethoscope around on his back.

"I was, yes," Roy told her sadly. "Unfortunately, I lost Elizabeth several years ago to a serious illness. Ever since then, it's just been Edward and I, and I've raised him alone."

Roy closed his eyes and said softly, "It's so hard to find a nice woman nowadays. I've just been so lonely since Elizabeth passed away…"

Natsuko took Roy's hand and examined it expertly, her russet-coloured eyes searching for any sign of injury. "I'm sure you'll find another woman to share your love with someday. And she'd be awful lucky!"

"I don't know," Roy murmured thoughtfully. "There could be another woman for me out there somewhere - or even in this palace…" Cue short squeak from women. "But I don't know if Edward would approve."

"You always put him before yourself," Rina said softly. "That's very sweet of you."

"He's my son," Roy told her. "I need to care for him even more thoroughly than I do myself."

More crooning.

The next ten minutes continued in this fashion, until eventually Roy was sitting at the head of the bed, the young women arranged in a circle with him; Chika and Natsuko sitting directly to his left and right, then Rina and Haruka, then Miiko and Mizu on the opposite side.

"I don't know," Roy said. "It's never happened to me before; I've never been prone to panic attacks. I just…don't know what happened. I was sitting there, and Prince Claudio kept bringing up the Ishbalan Rebellion. I think that might have been what set me off. I asked him to stop, but he kept going."

"Aw, he was so mean to you," Mizu said, looking concerned.

Roy feigned a shuddering sigh, as if talking about the matter was hurting him. "And then I just felt so scared about what would happen to me. I knew the war was over, but my body didn't. It was nerve-wracking. I didn't want Ed to see me that way again, so I left as fast as I could…"

Chika and Natsuko cuddled closer to him, 'aww'ing and clutching his arms.

"You need a hug," Rina stated solemnly, and before Roy knew it, all the girls had pressed close to him and were embracing him.

Quite pleased, he murmured, "Thank you for being so kind to me. I was worried you might think badly of me, being a single father who brings his child on business trips and has suffered from a panic attack, but you've all been so supportive…"

The nurses cuddled around him again, murmuring and crooning to him.

By this stage, Roy was half-sitting, half-lying the bed, Chika and Natsuko at his sides stroking his chin and chest, Haruka leaning her head against his side and Rina at his waist with Miiko and Mizu sitting and facing him from the end of the bed.

Roy beamed like a stupid fool on the inside, ecstatically happy. So happy, in fact, that it probably wasn't healthy.

_I guess the cover for this mission isn't as bad as I thought,_ Roy reflected elatedly as Chika stroked his hair and Rina laid her head back against his chest.

Several more minutes passed, and Roy was beginning to think that this twenty minutes had made the whole trip worthwhile when Edward and Tyrell pushed open the doors, both pointing down the corridor.

"Out," Edward said sternly, his face thunderous.

Tyrell nodded in agreement. "As the Colonel's primary health professional, I assure you that we can handle the situation without your assistance."

Roy scowled as several of the girls flooded forward and swamped the two, grabbing at their arms and pulling them over to the bed as well.

"Wait, what are you—?!" Edward protested, stumbling as Miiko tugged him onto the bed. Unfortunately for the teen, he hadn't managed to pull a shirt over himself - or a pair of trousers.

Tyrell let out a noise of surprise as he was tugged onto the bed next to them in a similar fashion, his mid-length white hair swaying with the movement and violet eyes wide.

"Oh, you two are just so _cute!"_ Natsuko purred, placing her head on Edward's shoulder as Miiko let out a noise that sounded something like 'myan' and clutched onto his left arm.

Edward shot a panicked glance at Roy, his cheeks burning (from embarrassment or fury, Roy couldn't tell) and let out a squeak.

The man simply shrugged nonchalantly, watching as Mizu and Haruka played with Tyrell, commenting on his hair and eyes. The prince shot him a numb smile of disbelief, looking dazed.

Roy pouted sulkily as Chika and Rina moved forward to inspect the new arrivals as well, leaving him by himself at the top of the bed.

"I've never seen black hair so fluffy and fine before," Rina commented, running her fingers through Edward's bangs and smiling.

Edward swallowed and sent another pitiful glance Roy's direction, his eyes pleading.

The Colonel pretended not to notice, instead closing his eyes moodily and looking in the other direction. _If you're gonna steal my girls then you might as well keep them, Edward._

Quite content to let the girls fuss over him, Tyrell happily struck up a conversation. "Yeah, I'm from Orato. It's pretty obscure; you've probably never heard of it."

Roy's spirits lifted a little when Chika, Haruka and Natsuko moved back towards him, smirking.

"That's quite a boy you've got there, Roy," Natsuko purred, interlocking her fingers on top of the man's shoulder. "He definitely gets his looks from you."

"I don't know," Roy murmured thoughtfully. "He's definitely got his mother's eyes, though."

"No, no," Haruka protested. "When I look in his eyes, the glimmer I see there is identical to yours."

"Is that so?" Roy said interestedly, mildly entertained by Edward's almost terrified demeanour and the way he leaned backwards away from Rina's curious gaze.

"Yeah," Chika said with a nod. "You've got the same type of focus. Rina likes a man like that."

"Well," Roy said with a smirk. "I'm pretty sure Ed's already got his heart set on another girl."

Edward, scrambling backwards on the bed now, glanced left and right before turning his head back to face Roy and calling out, "Alright, you! Get them out, or…or…"

"Or what?" Roy said, sounding bored.

"Or I'm telling Lieutenant Hawkeye!"

Roy paused, his face blank. He opened his mouth a little way, but didn't say anything. Scowling ever-so-slightly, he turned to Chika and said, "Alright, Miss Chika, I'm very grateful for your assistance - all of you - but unfortunately, it may be time for me to dismiss you." He held up a hand for silence as the girls protested. "Not that I haven't greatly enjoyed your company, or have any _desire_ for you to leave. But I'm sure both of us have jobs we need to be doing and duties we need to tend to."

"If we must," Chika responded disappointedly. "Come on, everyone."

The nurses filed out of the room, leaving an awestruck Tyrell, a frazzled Edward and a very huffy Roy behind.

"Way to spoil my fun, Edward," Roy grumbled sulkily.

Edward took a deep breath, his eyebrow doing a dangerously twitchy dance on his face. "You, my friend, are one twisted man. You took a group of perfectly civil girls and turned them into _tigers."_

"I can't help it that I'm so good-looking," Roy muttered. "And that was a really dirty trick, bringing the Lieutenant into this."

"If it got you to—" Edward was interrupted by Tyrell.

"Who exactly is this Hawkeye person? Are they—" The boy stopped mid-sentence, looking at Roy. "Ah. I see."

"What? Did you read me?"

"No. The look on your face just says you're terrified of upsetting her, for several reasons." He closed his eyes. "If I read you, I can tell it's because you want her approval, you feel the need to impress her and also because she handles a large supply of weapons with great skill."

Edward sat back, closing his eyes thoughtfully. "Her approval? Hmm…"

"Not the kind of approval you are almost definitely thinking of, Edward!" Roy snapped touchily. Defensively, he added, "My main reason is the fact that the Lieutenant is adept in the use of several large guns and various pointy instruments, and is also in charge of my schedule. A combination of these two factors make her a deadly enemy, to my body _and_ my mental stability."

Edward shrugged. "If you say so, Mustang."

"Stop taking this matter so lightly!"

"You're in _love_ with her."

Deep, steadying breath. "I am _not_ in love with the Lieutenant."

A turn of the head. "He loves her."

A sigh. "If you're aiming to come at me like a six-year-old, Edward, you're on the right track."

"So defensive. He _must_ like her." A nod of a black ponytail.

"Because you certainly don't appear to have grown any since then." A smirk.

"WHO ARE YOU SAYING IS A TINY LITTLE PIPSQUEAK BOY?!"

Tyrell sat in silence, admiring the clouds out the window and stewing on the purpose of life.

* * *

Today was another break, Inuya had informed the two Amestrians. As well as this, the young guide had told them that he was the one who had sent the nurses.

Roy thanked him excessively.

It turned out that for the length of the meeting, every third day would be required for technical (boring) business, and the other two were leisure time for the attendees. Not nearly as troublesome as Roy had previously assumed.

Gratefully, Roy sprawled on the couch, his hands behind his head and lying in some form of half-wakeful doze.

Briefly, he wondered who was dealing with his usual workload back in East City. With a blissful smirk, he hoped it was Hughes.

Edward was cross-referencing his research notes with the library books he'd once again scattered all over the place, but Roy couldn't be bothered even caring.

He noticed that every so often, Edward's hand would subconsciously move towards his most recent research notebook, as if to check it was still there.

Roy kept one eye on the boy as he worked, meticulously picking through the stacks of books. He didn't speak, didn't look up, didn't once distract himself from the task at hand.

Roy had to admire his obstinate determination, however the stubborn disregard for rest and general health care the boy possessed concerned him. And the near obsessive way he plowed on through his research with no other objective in mind was slightly worrying, albeit astounding to a man like Roy.

He supposed that if you had a worthy cause, you could go for quite a while without rest.

Edward's gaze broke contact with the pages of the book to wander the room for a few seconds. It landed on his research notes, then returned to reading.

Roy recalled something Edward had explained to him earlier on:

_"This one's the most important," the boy said, pointing to a small, leather-bound notebook. "It's like, an almighty glossary, if you know what I mean. All over my notes, I write down the names of my theories, but it's hard to remember them all, so…I write explanations of each one in here. It's also where I write down the meanings of all the symbols and phrases. And the most important leads and pieces of information we've got."_

_Turning to Roy, he said, "I don't know if you have anything like this, but if you do, you'll know how important it is. If you don't…"_

_Roy almost flinched back at the sudden aura of possessiveness Edward exuded, the boy's eyes narrowing dangerously._

_"Then I'm warning you now, touch it and you die."_

_"Understood," Roy said, a little dubiously. "I actually do have something of mine pretty similar, but I don't feel so passionately about it…"_

_"Well, you sure look like you feel the same way about your gloves."_

_"Those are for self-defense!" Roy defended himself. "Without them, I'd be pretty…"_

_"Useless?" Edward prompted. "Helpless? Weak?"_

_"No!" Roy snapped. "My name's the 'Flame Alchemist'! It'd be pretty stupid if I didn't have any flames to work with! At least I don't have OCD about my research!"_

_"It's not OCD," Edward muttered and picked up his notebook, fingering the spine thoughtfully. "I just can't help it. My research - no, _our _research - it's the closest I got so far in getting Al's body back. I have to keep it safe. That's why it's triple coded, and so few people know about it. You're one of the lucky ones. If we lose this, we might lose Al's body permanently."_

Roy smiled. _And there's _his _motivation._

Edward grabbed a loose sheet of paper and slipped it into the book he was reading to save his page and stood up, stretching and making his way to the bathroom.

Roy shot a glance after him, then back into the middle of nowhere. Somehow or other, the light from the window shone both at the notes in an angelic heaven-like effect, and then towards his eyes to shade them in such a way that a couple of rays refracted into a pair of devious yellow sparkles.

Curious as to what would happen if the boy was to come back and discover his notes weren't where he'd left them, Roy swung his legs off the couch and tiptoed over to Edward's mess, picking up the book and setting it underneath a pile of leaflets.

He quickly moved back to his original position as Edward came walking down the corridor, his black hair looking a little less like Roy's as the bangs started to show through again.

Roy made a mental note to fix that.

Edward stopped dead when he reached the couch, glancing around. Frowning, he examined the spot the book had been sitting in as if he were a cat surveying an odd disturbance in it's territory.

"Coulda sworn I put it…" He trailed off, his gaze raking across the room in the Colonel's direction.

Roy employed one of the useful life skills he'd gained in his martial training days at the academy and pretended he was asleep.

Edward turned back to his papers and Roy cracked open one eye cautiously.

The boy paused for a few seconds before pouncing on the piles and tearing through them all in pursuit of his precious research journal.

Once he'd successfully located it, he let out a heavy sigh and settled down again. He looked around once as if checking for onlookers (not noticing Roy, of course) before going back to his work.

_Most interesting,_ Roy thought, mildly intrigued by the boy's odd behaviour. _Obsessive compulsive, no._

Roy snuffed and rolled over to face the back of the couch, smiling to himself. _Nope, just very persistent…and the best damn big brother I've come across._

* * *

Roy Mustang had made the greatest discovery of his journey/career/life thus far.

Greater than the discovery of coffee.

Greater than the discovery that Maes Hughes was scared of mice.

Greater than the discovery of the Hawkeye family.

Greater than… Well, it was very great. Very great, exciting, significant, whatever. Roy was grinning in an eerily accurate impression of a Cheshire cat, that's how great it was.

Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist, was in possession of…a teddy.

The words in his mind made Roy feel giddily evil all over again. Such a crazy, unrealistic concept, and yet here he was seeing it with his own trusted eyes.

_A teddy,_ he thought disbelievingly. _Teddy. Teddy, teddy, teddy. Wow. That is probably the weirdest thing I've seen all year._

After researching, reading, writing and cross-referencing the entire day away, Edward had pushed aside his various research materials so that they laid about the floor and table, his travelling cloak pulled over himself like a blanket and one of the room's many lavish cushions propping his head up.

Roy had happily spent the majority of the day snoozing and replenishing his dwindling supply of energy, not planning on doing anything or dealing with anyone. Excepting of course the occasional pretty maid bearing the day's meals.

The tiny stuffed toy in question was nestled softly in the crook of Edward's neck, half covered by the cloak, and his black bangs obscured half of the thing's face.

It was only the size of Roy's fist, scruffy and threadbare, the stitching slightly frayed and a few threads hanging loose, and the black-button eyes were dull and scratched. Amusedly, Roy noted that if Edward had brought the toy here with him, then the chances were he took it everywhere.

_Gee,_ Roy thought as he made note of yet another of Edward's weird idiosyncrasies. _I knew you were young, Ed, but not _that _young… A fifteen-year-old employee of the State with a stuffed bear. That's priceless._

Still grinning, Roy set his glass of water down on one of the precious empty spaces left on the coffee table and tried to deduce the history of Edward's teddy.

_Well, it's pretty worn out, so I'd guess he's had it since he was quite young. Judging from the tear on the ear, he and his brother fought over it at some stage. Maybe several. The buttons/eyes don't match exactly, so one or both of them have been replaced before, hinting that it's had a rough time._

Roy looked closer, trying to draw as much information out of the scrappy toy as he could. _Looking at the pattern of the stitching, I think it's safe to say that it's been hand-made…and from a mix of several fabrics, mainly wool. That suggests it was made in Resembool, and - going by the boy's apparent feelings towards it - highly likely for it to have been of his mother's creation._

Pleased, Roy sat down on the sofa opposite and observed the boy quietly. He was grateful to the miracle that was sleep for the opportunities it provided.

Amongst many other uses, sleep allowed Roy to examine Edward closely. It wasn't as if he'd seen more than necessary (or healthy) of the boy already over the past few years, but sleep gave Roy the window for an entirely new perspective.

During his waking hours, Edward would glare or snap at Roy if he ever looked in his direction for more than five seconds without reason.

Now that he was unconscious, Roy could pinpoint small details on the teenage prodigy's person that he would normally miss if the boy were awake and barking, "Whatchou lookin' at?!" every time his superior tried.

The small scar on his lower lip that had been made from repeatedly biting it to the point of bleeding, for example.

Roy thought it highly probable that he'd bitten down on it in an effort to bear the pain of losing his leg and his arm, and then the whole way through his auto-mail surgery and rehabilitation.

All over the boy's face, Roy began to pick up the subtle markings and traces of someone living as painful life as the two Elric brothers did.

He spotted more small scars, like another few on his temples which indicated several cases of heavy force applied - most likely to render the boy unconscious.

There were creases where certain expressions had been pulled several times, like frowns of concentration or worry, cringes of pain or faked smiles. But also, real smiles. This eased the concern in Roy's chest a little.

Edward had endured a huge mound of grief, been put through immense pain, had taken part in numerous vicious and merciless fights, dealt with an insane amount of pressure and contained a dangerous amount of rage and frustration.

All this Roy could tell from his face, the man reflected sadly. _Imagine what I could figure out from the rest of his body. And his eyes._

His eyes. His golden amber eyes were staring straight at Roy.

Puzzled at first, then furious. "Whatchu lookin' at?!"

Roy looked towards the window, raising his eyebrows. "Nothing."

Scowling, Edward shifted his weight and pressed his chin into his chest self-consciously. "It was Winry's okay? Mom made it for her birthday and Al and me got jealous. We all fought over it, but Winry made us take it when we left."

Moments later, after some consideration, the boy mumbled, "It still smells like mom and Al."

Roy looked over his shoulder at the wall behind him. "I understand."

"Don't tell anyone," murmured the boy, glaring shamefully at the window. _"Please_ don't tell anyone."

Roy smiled softly, turning his head to the side ever-so-slightly. "I won't. Promise."

"Promises are dangerous," Edward muttered. "You can make them so easily, but they're so hard to fulfil. I can't go on that."

"I keep my promises," Roy told him firmly. Holding out both hands with his fingers stretched wide, he added, "Unless I've got my fingers crossed. Which I obviously don't."

Edward smirked, then grinned, and started to snicker. Seconds later, he'd burst into a fit of coarse laughter, trying to muffle it with his hand. After catching his breath, he said, "Don't only little kids do that?"

"I see no point in disregarding a perfectly legitimate excuse as to why I didn't do my paperwork as promised simply because 'little kids do it'," Roy responded. "And people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, Ed."

Edward stared blankly for a few seconds before embers of indignation sparked a roaring blaze in the boy's hot eyes. "Are you calling me short?!"

"Maybe. You'll never know."

Edward huffed, pulling his cloak up to his nose. "This is why I don't trust you."

Roy settled himself down, pulling his own coat off the back of the couch and onto his shoulders. "Goodnight."

"'Night."

* * *

**I'M SORRY. ED SO CUTE. COULDN'T HELP IT.**

**Also, AHHH! ROY'S SHERLOCK!**

**So, sort of like a kinda-filler-chapter-thingamy-donk. Don't worry - both excitement and humour take place next chapter!**

**Me trying to break down Roy's personality:**

"**Well, he's **_**mostly **_**serious, but he hates work so he slacks off a lot, which is confusing since he gets mad when people don't do their own work properly. He likes to hang out with girls, but he gets annoyed by people like Ed and Hughes who are always acting like little kids…but when **_**he **_**doesn't care, he acts like a kid himself. So in other words, the kind of people he hates are people like himself…? LET'S JUST SAY HE HAS MULTIPLE PERSONALITY DISORDER AND LEAVE IT THERE!"**

**To Bluefire21; Not the kind of tigers you were thinking of...? I don't blame you.**

**ZAKURO AWAY! X2 BECAUSE I DIDN'T LAST TIME! *flies away on a rainbow that's super-duper fat***

* * *

**A message from Chibineko, Zakuro's younger sister:**

**WATCH OUT EVERYONE! LOCK YOUR DOORS AND WINDOWS! HIDE YOUR CHILDREN! AND YOUR STEW! SET A BOTTLE OF MILK ON YOUR DOORSTEP TO WARD IT OFF!**

_**THE WIND SPIRIT IS COMING FOR YOU...!**_


End file.
